A
HISTORY OF
MUSLIM PHILOSOPHY
WITH SHORT ACCOUNTS OF OTHER
DISCIPLINES AND THE MODERN
RENAISSANCE IN MUSLIM LANDS
EDITED AND INTRODUCED BY
M. M. SHARIF
VOLUME TWO
1966
OTTO HARRASSOWITZ • WIESBADEN
RUTGERS UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
Chapter
CONTENTS
VOLUME II
Page
© Pakistan Philosophical Congress 1966
All rights reserved
Printed by Allgauer Heimatverlag GmbH., Kempten, Germany
Printed in Germany
Book Four
LATER CENTURIES
(From the Fall of Baghdad [656^1258] to 1111/1700)
Part 1. THE FALL OF BAGHDAD
XL Fall of the 'Abbasid Caliphate by Abdul Shakoor Ahsan, M.A.,
LL.B., Senior Lecturer in Persian, University of the Panjah, Lahore
(Pakistan) 789
Part 2. THEOLOGICO-PHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHT
XLI Ibn Taimiyyah by Serajul Haque, M.A., Ph.D., Professor and
Chairman, Department of Arabic and Islamic Studies, University
of Dacca (Pakistan) 796
Part 3. THE SUFIS
XLII Jalal al-Dln Rumi by Khalifah Abdul Hakim, M. A., Ph.D., Direc-
tor, Institute of Islamic Culture, Lahore (Pakistan) 820
XLIII Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jami by B.A. Dar 839
XLIV S_haikh Ahmad Sirhindi by Muhammad Farman, M. A., Professor
of Philosophy, Zamindara College, Oujrat (Pakistan) 873
Part 4. THE "PHILOSOPHERS"
XLV Jalal al-Dln Dawwani by Bakhtyar Husain Siddiqi 883
L.XLVT Ibn Khaldun by Muhsin Mahdi, Ph.D., Assistant . Pro) essor of
T Arabic, University of Chicago (U.S.A.) 888
Part 5. THE MIDDLE-ROADERS
XLVII The School of Ispahan by Seyyed Hoasein Nasr 904
XLVIII Sadr al-Dln Shlrazi (Mulla Sadra) by Seyyed HosseinNasr . . 932
Part 6. POLITICAL THOUGHT
,U XLIX Ibn Khaldun by Muhsin Mahdi 961
Contents
Chapter Book Five Page
OTHER DISCIPLINES
(Covering Both the Early and the Later Centuries)
Part 1. LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE
L Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms by S.M. Yusuf, M.A.,
Ph.D., Chairman, Department of Arabic, University of Karachi
(Pakistan) Q * 5
LI Arabic Literature: Grammar and Lexicography by S.M. Yusuf 1015
LII Arabic Literature: Theories of Literary Criticism by M. Khalaf-
allah, M.A., Dean, Faculty of Arts, and Chairman, Department of
Arabic and Oriental Studies, Alexandria University (U.A.R.) . . 1031
LIII Persian Literature by Sa'id Nancy, M.A., Formerly, Professor of
Persian Language and Literature, Teheran University, Teheran
(Iran) 1043
LIV Turkish Literature by Meedut Mansuroglu, Ph.D., Professor of
Turkish Languages, Istanbul University (Turkey) 1058
Part 2. FINE ARTS
LV Architecture
A. The First Three Centuries of Muslim Architecture by K. A.C.
Creswell, F.S.A., Hons., A.R.I.B.A., School of Oriental
Studies, Tlie American University, Cairo (U.A.R.) ■ ■ - - 1075
B. Muslim Architecture in Later Centuries by S. Sibte Hasan,
M. A., Formerly, Lecturer in Jefferson School of Social Sciences,
New York ; Editor, Pakistan Review, Lahore
And
M. Abdullah Chaghatai, D.Litt., Lecturer in Islamic Studies,
University of the Panjab, Lahore 1082
LVI Painting by M. Ajmal, M.A., Ph.D., Bureau of National Recon-
struction, Rawalpindi (Pakistan) m°
LVII Music by H. G. Farmer, M.A., Ph.D., D.Litt., D.Mus., Assistant
Librarian (in charge of Music), Glasgow University Library;
Vice-President, Glasgow University Oriental Society (U.K.) . . 1124
LVIII Music (Continued) by H. G. Farmer H44
LIX Minor Arts by Syed Abid AH Abid U78
Part 3. SOCIAL STUDIES
LX Historiography by I. H. Qureshi, M.A., Ph.D., Director, Central
Institute of Islamic Research, Karachi (Pakistan) 1195
LXI Jurisprudence by M. Hamidullah, M.A., Ph.D., D.Litt., 4, Rue
de Tournon, Paris (France) 1219
Part 4. THE SCIENCES
LXII Geography by Nans Ahmad, M.A., Ph.D., F.R.G.S., F.A.G.S.,
Professor and Chairman, Department of Geography, University of
Dacca (Pakistan) 1244
LXIII Mathematics and Astronomy by M. R. Siddiqi, M. A., Ph. D., D. Sc,
V ice-Chancellor, University of Sind, Hyderabad (Pakistan) . . 1277
Contents
Chapter Page
LXIV Physics and Mineralogy by Muhammad Abdur Rahman Khan,
B.Sc, A.R.C.S., F.R.A.S., Principal and Chairman, Department
of Physics, Osmania University College; President, Hyderabad
Academy, Hyderabad Deccan (India) 1292
LXV Chemistry by Salimuzzaman Siddiqi, D.Phil., Nat., Dr. Med. h. c,
F.R.S., Director, Pakistan Council of Scientific and Industrial
Research, Karachi (Pakistan)
And
S. Mahdihassan, Ph.D., F.I.I.Sc, F.R.I.C, Chairman, Bio-
chemical Division, Pakistan Council of Scientific and Industrial
Research, Karachi (Pakistan) 1296
LXVI Natural History by Seyyed Hossein Nasr 1316
LXVII Medicine by K. S. Shah, M.B., B.S., D.Sc, D.P.H., D.T.M.,
Professor of Bacteriology and Preventive Medicine, Fatimah Jinnah
Medical College, Lahore (Pakistan) 1332
Book Six
INFLUENCE OF MUSLIM THOUGHT
LXVIII Influence of Muslim Thought on the West
A. Western Thinkers on Islam in General 1349
B. Theological Influence 1359
C. Philosophical Influence before Descartes by H. Z. Ulken,
Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy and Logic, Ankara University
(Turkey) ,. . . . 1367
D. Philosophical Influence from Descartes to Kant by M. M. Sharif 1381
E. Philosophical Influence in the Post-Kantian Period by H. Z.
Ulken 1387
LXIX Influence of Muslim Thought on the East by C. A. Qadir . . . . 1389
Book Seven
THE DARK AGE
(1111/1700-1266/1850)
LXX Decline in the Muslim World by C. A. Qadir 1417
LXXI The Silver Lining: Development of the Urdu Language, Gram-
mar, and Literature by S. M. Abdullah, M.A., M.O.L., D.Litt.,
Professor and Chairman, Department of Urdu, University of the
Panjab; Principal, Oriental College, Lahore (Pakistan) .. .. 1434
Book Eight
MODERN RENAISSANCE
Part 1. RENAISSANCE IN THE NEAR AND MIDDLE
EAST
LXXII Renaissance in Arabia, Yemen, Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon:
Muhammad Bin 'Abd al-Wahhab and His Movement by Abdul
Hamid Siddiqi, M.A., Professor of Economics, Islamia College,
Lahore; Jt. Editor, Tarjuman al-Qur'an, Lahore (Pakistan) . . 1446
Contents
Chapter Page
L.XXIII Renaissance in North Africa: The Sanusiyyah Movement by
Muhammad Khalil, LL.B., LL.D., Bar-at-Law, Advocate, Amman
(Jordan) 1457
LXXIV Jamsl al-Dln al-Afghani by Osman Amin, D. Litt., Professor and
Chairman, Department of Philosophy, Cairo University (U.A.R.) 1482
LXXV Renaissance in Egypt: Muhammad 'Abduh and His School by
Osman Amin 1490
LXXVI Renaissance in Turkey: Zia Gokalp and His School by Niazie
Berkes, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Institute of Islamic Studies,
McGitt University (Canada) 1513
LXXVII Renaissance in Iran: General by Abdul Shakoor Ahsan . . . . 1524
LXXVIII Renaissance in Iran (Continued): Haji Mulla Hadi Sabziwari by
Seyyed Hossein Nasr 1543
Part 2. RENAISSANCE IN SOUTH AND SOUTH-EAST
ASIA
LXXIX Renaissance in Indo-Pakistan : Shah Wali Allah Dihlawi by Abdul
Hamid Siddiqi 1557
LXXX Renaissance in Indo-Pakistan (Continued): Sir Sayyid Ahmad
Khan as a Politician, Historian, and Reformist by Abdul Hamid,
M.A., Ph.D., Professor of History, Government College, Lahore
(Pakistan) 1580
LXXXI Renaissance in Indo-Pakistan (Continued): Sir Sayyid Ahmad
Khan as a Religio-Philosophical Thinker by B.A. Dar . . . . 1598
LXXXII Renaissance in Indo-Pakistan (Continued): Iqbal by Khahfah
Abdul Hakim 1614
LXXXIII Renaissance in Indonesia by Shaikh Abdur Rashid, M.A.,
Director, Historical Research Institute, University of the Panjab,
Lahore (Pakistan) 1634
CONCLUSION by the Editor, M.M.Sharif 1656
INDEX 1663
BOOK FOUR
LATER CENTURIES
(From the Fall of Baghdad [656/1258] to 1111/1700)
Part 1. The Fall of BaghdSd
Chapter XL
FALL OF THE 'ABBASID CALIPHATE
The Mongol invasion which shook the world of Islam to its very foundations
in the seventh/thirteenth century was an unprecedented phenomenon in the
history of mankind. A people, hitherto unknown even to their neighbours,
poured forth from the bare and bleak plateau of Karakorum (Mongolis) and
with lightning speed overran the Asian and European continents from China
to Hungary and East Prussia, and built up the largest empire known to man,
These people were the Mongols 1 or Tartars as called by their contemporaries.
Their invasion inflicted more suffering on the human race than any other
incident recorded in history. They lived in a wild and primitive state of
society. "They are," says Matthew Paris, "inhuman and beastly, rather
monsters than men, thirsty for and drinking blood, tearing and devouring the
flesh of dogs and men. . . . They are without human laws. 1 ' 2
The Mongol storm burst on the Muslim world in two separate waves. The
first dates back to 616/1219 when Chingiz Khan 3 (550/1155-625/1227), who
first as the leader of a band of adventurers and later installed as their ruler
in 603/1206 welded these barbarians into a strong and well-disciplined military
force, attacked the Empire of the Khwarizm Shahs (470/1077-629/1231) which
at the height of its power stretched from the Ural Mountains to the Persian
Gulf and from the Euphrates to the Indus excluding the two Iranian pro-
vinces of Khuzistan and Fars. The second wave broke on Khurasan in 654/
1256 when Chingiz Khan's grandson, Hulagu Khan (614/1217-664/1265), was
selected by his brother, Emperor Mangu Khan (649/1251-655/1257), and the
1 The word is derived from the root mong which means brave.
2 E. G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia, Vol. Ill, p. 7.
3 His actual name was Temuchin. The title of Chingiz or Zingis Khan was
presented to him by his people in recognition of his rising power. The word zin
means great, gls is the superlative termination.
789
A History of Muslim Philosophy
great quriltay, i.e., the Mongol national assembly, held in 649/1251 , to annihilate
the 'Abbasid Caliphate of Baghdad and the Isma'ilis of Alamut and Qiihistan
in North Iran.
The first invasion, which probably could not have been averted, was provoked
by a frontier incident in which the Governor of Utrar, 4 a frontier town in
Khwarizm, murdered a number of Mongol tradesmen alleged to have been
spies. Thereupon Chingiz Khan despatched an embassy consisting of two
Mongols and one Turk to the Court of 'Ala al-Dln Muhammad Khwarizm Shah
(596/1199-617/1220) to protest against this violation of the laws of hospitality
and demanded that he should hand over the Governor to them or prepare for
war. In reply Khwarizm Shah behaved in a queer fashion which was both
foolish and arrogant. He killed the Turk and turned back the two Mongols
with their beards shaved off. Upon this the Mongols held a quriltay and decided
to attack Khwarizm.
This is not the only evidence of Khwarizm Shah's suicidal policy. According
to the contemporary historian, ibn Athlr (d. 632/1234), 'Ala al-Din Muhammad
had already destroyed or weakened the neighbouring Muslim States in order
to build up an unstable, sprawling empire, so that in the dark hour of trial
when, instead of showing any signs of resistance, he adopted the ignominious
course of continued retreat, and left his unfortunate subjects at the mercy of
the relentless enemy, there was no Muslim power left to protect or defend them.
His gallant son, Jalal al-Din Mankoburni (617/1220-629/1231), however, put
up stiff resistance against the full might of the Mongol attack and for years
continued to show acts of great heroism in unequal battles till, unaided and
deserted, he met his tragic end. By his desperate and indomitable courage
against the Mongol blast of death, this dauntless prince has left a permanent
mark of gallantry in the annals of Muslim history.
A big factor which hastened the Muslim downfall was the atmosphere of
intrigue prevailing in the Muslim world on the eve of the Mongol invasion.
According to ibn Athir and al-Maqrlzi (766/1364-846/1442), the 'Abbasid
Caliph al-Nasir (576/1180-622/1225) actually encouraged the Mongols to attack
Khwarizm, little knowing that his own house was destined to perish at the
hands of the same irresistible foe.
The storm burst in 616/1219 and soon engulfed Transoxiana, Khwarizm,
Khurasan, the territories lying north of the river Indus, and North Iran, till,
instead of turning south or west, it swept across the Caucasus into South
Russia, finally to advance as far away as the Baltic and the Adriatic.
The second wave of invasion struck Khurasan in the beginning of 654/1256;
the Caliphate of Baghdad was destroyed in 656/1258 by Hulagu Khan who
had earlier wiped out the Isma'ili stronghold at Alamut in North Iran in
654/1256. The Mongol army advanced further into Syria, sacked Aleppo, and
threatened Damascus into surrender in 659/1260. It was at 'Ain Jalut (Goliath's
1 Also known as Farab.
Fall of the 'Abbasid Caliphate
Spring) near Nazareth, however, that the Mongol tide was firmly stemmed by
the gallant Mamluks of Egypt who gave them a crushing defeat in 659/1260.
After the death of Jalal al-Din Mankoburni this was the first Muslim victory
in thirty years and it broke the spell of the Mongol invincibility.
The Mongols were essentially an engine of destruction. They mowed down
all resistance and their opponents "fell to the right and left like the leaves of
winter." They have been described by Sir Henry Howorth as one of those
races "which are sent periodically to destroy the luxurious and the wealthy,
to lay in ashes the arts and culture which grow under the shelter of wealth
and easy circumstances." 5 According to 'Ata Malik Juwaini, Hulagu Khan's
secretary, who was appointed Governor of Baghdad after the destruction of
the 'Abbasid Caliphate, Chingiz Khan described himself at Bukhara as the
"scourge of God" sent to men as a punishment for their great sins. 6
The bewildering extent of the blood-thirsty ferocity, insatiable thirst for
massacre, and devastating destruction which brought unprecedented suffering
for the greater portion of the civilized world, would be just impossible to
' believe, had the facts not been confirmed from different sources, both Eastern
and Western.
All historians agree that wherever the Mongols went they exterminated
populations, pillaged towns and cities, wreaked special vengeance upon those
who dared to resist them, converted rich and smiling fields into deserts, and
left behind the smoke of burning towns. In the words of Chingiz Khan him-
self, quoted by Rashid al-Din Fadl Allah, the famous Prime Minister of the
Mongol period in Iran and the author of Jdmi' al-Taioarikh, 7 "the greatest
5 Henry Howorth, History of the Mongols, Part I, p. x.
6 'Ata Malik Juwaini, Tarijch-i Jahankuska, Vol. I, ed. Muhammad 'Abd al-
Wahhab Qazwini, Leiden, 1329/1911, p. 81.
'Ala al-Din 'Ata Malik Juwaini (d. 682/1283) who belonged to a distinguished
family of ministers and administrators was one of those Iranian officers whom the
Mongols found indispensable in the civil service. He was Hulagu Khan's secretary
and had served him throughout his campaign. He was appointed Governor of
Baghdad by Hulagu Khan a year after the conquest of the city and held this
position for twenty-four years. His famous book which was completed in 658/1260
contains a first-hand account of Hulagu Khan's military exploits and is one of
the most authentic books on the history of this period. It deals with the Mongols,
the Khwarizm §hahs, and the Isma'ili sect and ends with the events of the year
655/1257.
7 Rashid al-Din Fadl Allah (645/1247-718/1318), the renowned scholar-adminis-
trator of the Il-Khani (Mongol) period of the history of Iran, served as Prime
Minister under three Muslim Mongol rulers, namely, Qhazan (694/1294^703/1303)
who, along with ten thousand Mongols, embraced Islam on gha'ban 4, 694 A.H.,
and by declaring it the State religion restored its supremacy in Iran; Uljaitu
Khuda-bandeh (703/1303-716/1316); and abu Sa'id (716/1316-736/1335). In spite
of his preoccupations as the Prime Minister of a great empire, Rashid al-Din found
time to pursue research and write books, both in Arabic and Persian. Of these
his Jdmi' cti-Tawarikh, which, in the words of Quatremere, the French editor of
portions of this work, "offered for the first time to the people of Asia a complete
791
A History of Muslim Philosophy
joy is to conquer one's enemies, to pursue them, to see their families in tears,
to ride their horses, and to possess their daughters and wives." In old Mongol
traditions there is a story that the future world conqueror was born with a
piece of clotted blood in his hands. 8 The senseless destruction, cruelty, outrage,
spoliation, and the lightning speed of the Mongol attack have been described
by Juwaini in the pithy sentence uttered by a fugitive from Merv: "They
came, they uprooted, they burned, they slew, they carried off, they departed." 9
To have an idea of the brutal lust of conquest and ruthless ferocity shown
by the Mongol hordes it would suffice to trace the wanton disregard of human
life shown by them in some of the many prosperous cities and towns they
ravaged. They reduced to ashes the city of Bukhara which was known for its
magnificent palaces, gardens, and parks stretching for miles on the banks of
the river Sughd; put one million people to the sword in Samarqand; and
brutally massacred all the inhabitants of Tirmidh and Sabziwar. Khwarizm
suffered an equally tragic fate. According to Juwaini, 1,200,000 persons were
killed in the city. Amongst the scholars and saints who perished was the
famous Shaikh Najm al-Dln Kubra (d. 618/1221). In Balkh the Mongol army
came back a few days after the city's destruction to kill the poor wretches
who might have survived the first holocaust, and, having dragged them out
of the hiding-places, butchered them in the true Mongol fashion. Bamiyan,
where a Mongol prince lost his life, was wiped out of existence, and orders were
issued not to leave even babes alive in their mothers' wombs. This kind of
sadism was not a stray incident, for ibn Athir charaterizes the Mongols as a
people who "spared none, slaying women, men, and children, ripping open
pregnant women and killing unborn babes." 10 At Nasa they made a hecatomb
of over 70,000 people. Merv, which was at the height of its glory, suffered,
according to ibn Athir, a loss of 700,000 persons, but Juwaini puts the figure
at 1,300,000, excluding those whose bodies were hidden at obscure retreats.
The survivors were traced out, as in Balkh. and mercilessly killed. Nishapur,
which was like the bright Venus in the galaxy of cities, 11 was completely
razed to the ground and every living thing, including animals, was massacred.
Pyramids of skulls were built as a mark of this ghastly feat of military
"triumph." According to Mirkhwand, 1,047,000 men were butchered in the
city in addition to an unknown number of women and children. 12 He adds,
however, that forty artisans and craftsmen were given shelter and transported
a of universal history and geography," is the most celebrated. Though it is
a general history of the world, yet it contains a detailed and highly authentic
account of the Mongol Emperors from the time of Chinglz Khan to the death of
Sultan Ghazan.
8 Encyclopaedia of Islam, Vol. I, Part 2, p. 856.
9 Juwaini, op. cit., p. 105,
10 E. G. Browne, op. cit.. Vol. II, p. 428.
11 Juwaini, op. cit., p. 133.
12 Mirkhwand, Baudot al-Saja, Vol. V, p. 46.
792
Fall of the 'Abbasid Caliphate
to Mongolia. In Herat these barbarian hordes set up a new record by putting
1,600,000 men to the sword.
These figures give an idea of the cold-blooded, passionless cruelty of the
invaders who, in the words of Matthew Paris, "spared neither age, nor sex, nor
condition." 13 Juwaini mourns the loss of life in Khurasan in the following
words: "Not one-thousandth of the population escaped ... if from now to
the Day of Judgment nothing hinders the growth of population in Khurasan
and 'Iraq-i 'Ajam, it cannot reach one-tenth of the figure at which it stood
before."
With the destruction of the scores of cities of fame also perished the price-
less treasures of art and literature. The letter of ibn Khallikan (608/1211-
681/1282) which he wrote from Mosul after his flight from Merv to al-Qadi
al-Akram Jamal al-Dln abu al- Hasan 'AM, vizier of the King of Aleppo,
pathetically describes the nature of the Mongol cataclysm. In this letter,
written in 617/1220, the author pays his last tribute to the libraries of Merv
which had made him forget his dear ones, his home, and country, and to the
advanced state of civilization in Khurasan which, according to him, "in a
word, and without exaggeration, was a copy of paradise." He proceeds to
laud the achievements of its doctors, saints, scholars, the monuments of
science, and the virtues of the authors of this region and then laments the
tragedy of Merv in these words : "Those palaces were effaced from the earth . . .
in those places the screech-owls answer each others' cries and in those halls
the winds moan responsive to the simoom." Ibn Athir describes the loss of
life and culture in the same strain: "Those Tartars conquered . . . the best,
the most flourishing, and the most populous part thereof [the habitable globe],
and that whereof the inhabitants were the most advanced in character and
conduct." 14
The reckless assassination of thousands of scholars, poets, and writers, and
the destruction of libraries and colleges wrought irreparable disaster upon
Muslim civilization which had flourished for centuries with such remarkable
vitality. Transoxiana and Kh urasan were the worst sufferers. Fertile plains
and valleys in these regions were turned into wilderness. The great highways
of Central Asia on which passed the merchandise of China to Western Asia
and Europe also lay deserted.
For twenty years after the death of Chinglz Khan in 625/1227, the Mongols
continued to pillage Kurdistan, Adharbaijan, and regions to the west of
Iran, at times marauding right up to Aleppo. But the Caliphate of Baghdad
had survived. The inevitable occurred in 656/1258 when Hulagu Khan stormed
Baghdad after he had extirpated the Isma'ili power at Alamut in 654/1256.
The city which had been the metropolis of Islam for more than five centuries
(132/749-656/1258) was given over to plunder and flame. The massacre,
13 E. G. Browne, op. cit, Vol. Ill, p. 7.
14 Ibid., Vol. II, p. 429.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
according to Diyarbakri (d. 982/1574) in his Tdrikh al-Khamis, continued for
thirty-four days during which 1,800,000 persons were put to the sword. For
days blood ran freely in the streets of Baghdad and the water of the Tigris
was dyed red for miles. According to Wassaf, the sack of Baghdad lasted forty
days. 15 To quote Kitab al-Fahhri, "Then there took place such wholesale
slaughter and unrestrained looting and excessive torture and mutilation as
it is hard to be spoken of even generally; how think you, then, its details ?"
Al-Must'asim bi Allah (640/1242-656/1258) who was destined to be the last
Caliph of this renowned dynasty was beaten to death, and, according to another
version, trampled on by horses.
The sack of Baghdad was a supreme catastrophe of the world of Islam and
of the Arabo-Persian civilization which had flourished so richly for many
hundred years. Its magnitude surpassed the devastation of other cities, be-
cause the political and psychological implications of this tragedy had a far
greater import. The Caliph was regarded as the spiritual and temporal head
of the Muslim world and even in its days of decline the Caliphate of Baghdad
had retained the semblance of Muslim unity and homogeneity. Baghdad,
therefore, was more than a city. It was a symbol. With the end of the Cali-
phate this symbol also vanished. It was also the centre of the most advanced
civilization of the time and from it emanated the rays of knowledge which
illuminated the world. The destruction of Baghdad, therefore, meant the
extinction of learning. With it were destroyed the great libraries and unique
treasures of art, philosophy, and science, accumulated through hundreds of
years. Books were consumed to ashes or thrown into the river. Mosques,
colleges, hospitals, and palaces were put to fire. The awful nature of the
cataclysm which completely blocked the advancement of knowledge in Muslim
lands, and, thus, indirectly in the whole world, is, in the words of Percy Sykes,
"difficult to realize and impossible to exaggerate." 18 No wonder the great
Sa'di (580/1184-691/1291) was moved to write in far-off Shiraz an elegy on
the destruction of Baghdad and the fall of the Caliphate, which has gone
down in Persian poetry as one of the most pathetic poems of all times.
What deepened the sombre effects of this tragedy was the fact that, with
the extermination of men of learning and the total destruction of Muslim
society, the spirit of inquiry and original research so distinctly associated
with Arabic learning was practically destroyed. Western Asia was now plunged
into darkness as earlier Khurasan and Transoxiana had been wrapped in
gloom. The two races— Arabs and Iranians— which together had contributed
to the medieval world the highest literary and scientific culture parted ways.
For centuries Arabic had been the language of religion, science, and philo-
sophy in Iran, and all thinkers and scientists had chosen Arabic as the vehicle
of expressing their thoughts. But henceforth Arabic lost its position of pri-
■ 'Abd Allah ibn Fadl Allah Wassaf, Tanhh-i Wassaf, p. 87.
5 Percy Sykes, A History of Persia, Vol. II, p. 98.
Fall of the 'Abbasid Caliphate
vilege and its use was restricted mostly to the field of theology and scholastic
learning. The Arabs themselves lost even the shadow of a major role in
Islamic history. The fall of Baghdad, therefore, was also an ominous sign of
the loss of Arab hegemony.
The Mongol invasion by its accumulated horror and scant respect for human
life and moral values produced an attitude of self-negation and renunciation
in general and in Persian poetry in particular. The pantheistic philosophy of
ibn ' Arabi henceforth made a strong appeal to the minds of subsequent mystics
such as Auhadi Kirmani, Auhadi of Maraghah, and Jami.
The infinite havoc caused by this cataclysm constitutes a melancholy
chapter in the history of Muslim civilization. What Juwaini had called the
famine of science and virtue in Khurasan 17 came true of all lands stretching
from Transoxiana to the shores of the Mediterranean. Never, perhaps, had
such a great and glorious civilization been doomed to such a tragic fall. This
tragic fall was not, however, a tragic end, for this civilization rose again and
produced within two centuries and a half three of the greatest empires of the
world, and though the main current of its thought changed its course, even
before, and long before, its political recovery, it produced the world's first
destroyer of Aristotle's logic in ibn Taimiyyah and the first sociologist and
philosopher of history in ibn Khaldun.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Ameer Ali, A Short History of the Saracens, London, 1951; E. G. Browne,
A Literary History of Persia, Cambridge,l 951 ; Encyclopaedia Britannica, Vol. XV,
London; Rashld al-Dln Fadl Allah, Jami' al-Tawarikh, Vol. II, ed. Bahman Mirza
Karimi, Teheran, 1313 A.H.; P. K. Hitti, History of the Arabs, New York, 1956;
M. Th. Houtsma, T. W. Arnold, R. Basset, R. Hartmann et aU, Eds., Encyclopaedia
of Islam, Vol. I, Part 2, Leiden; Henry Howorth, History of the Mongols, London,
1876; 'Abbas Iqbal, Tdrikh-i Mufassal-i Iran, Vol. I, Teheran, 1312 A.H.; 'Afca
Malik Juwaini, Tdrikh-i Jahdnkusha, Vol. I, ed. Muhammad 'Abd al-WahMb
Qazwini, Leiden, 1329/1911; Muhammad bin Kbawand ghah Mirkhwand, Baudot
al-Safa, Vol. V, Bombay, 1261 A.H.; R. A. Nicholson, A Literary History of 'the
Arabs, Cambridge, 1953; 'Abd Allah Razi, Tdrikh-i Mufassal-i Iran, Teheran, 1375
A.H.; Percy Sykes, A History of Persia, Vol. II, London, 1921; 'Abd Allah ibn
Fadl Allah Wassaf, Tarikh-i Wassaf, Vol. I, ed. Muhammad Iqbal, Lahore, 1927.
17 Juwaini, op. cit., p. 4.
Part 2. Theologico-Philosophical Thought
Chapter XLI
IBN TAIMIYYAH
LIFE AND WORKS
After having seen the rise and development of theological and philosophical
movement in Islam and the contributions made by the theologians and philo-
sophers before the sack of Baghdad, we have now come to a point which may
be called the pre-renaissance period in the history of Islam. By ibn Taimiy-
yah's time theology, philosophy, and jurisprudence had made remarkable
progress and given rise to different schools of thought. But, unfortunately,
political dissensions and doctrinal differences sapped the unity of the Muslims
and made their countries easy prey to Mongol invasions in the seventh/
thirteenth century. It was at this critical juncture that Imam ibn Taimlyyah
appeared as a mujtahid (one qualified to form an independent opinion in
Muslim Law) and called upon the people to go back to the original teachings
of Islam as they are found in the Qur'an and the Sunnah of the Prophet. He
had little respect for theology (Katem) or philosophy, and he could not be
called a theologian or a philosopher in the truest sense of the terms, though
he himself acted as a great theologian and a great philosopher. The excellence
of Imam ibn Taimlyyah as an original thinker and a critic has been widely
accepted, and he is generally considered to be the forerunner of Wahhabism,
Sanfisism, and similar other reform movements in the Muslim world.
Taqi al-Dln abu al- 'Abbas Ahmad ibn 'Abd al-Halim, commonly known as
ibn Taimlyyah, was born in Harran, 1 a city near Damascus, on Monday, the
10th of RabI' I 661/22nd January 1263.
During the year 667/1269 when ibn Taimlyyah reached the age of seven,
the Mongols ravaged the city of Harran, and his father 'Abd al-Halim came
to Damascus with all the members of his family and settled there. Here ibn
Taimlyyah received excellent education under his father who was a great
scholar of the Hanbalite school. He also studied under 'Ali ibn 'Abd al-Qawi
and mastered the Arabic grammar of Sibawaihi. He studied Hadith with more
1 A place famous for its Hanbalite school. Here lived the Sabeans and the
philosophers who worshipped the heavenly bodies and images after their names.
The Prophet Moses was sent to these people for their guidance. See MEK, Vol. I,
pp. 425 et sq.
796
Ibn Taimlyyah
than two hundred Shaikhs. 2 It is noteworthy that among the teachers, whom
ibn Taimlyyah mentions in his Arba'iin, were four ladies. 3
It is difficult to say whether ibn Taimiyyah was influenced by any of his
predecessors in his extraordinary enthusiasm for introducing social and religious
reforms in the Muslim community and for his unsympathetic attitude towards
the theologians, the philosophers, and the Sufis. A close examination of his
works suggests that he followed none but the early pious Muslims (salaf al-
sdlifyun) in formulating his scheme of reform. This is why his movement is
often called the Salafi movement. His motto was, "Go back to the Qur'an and
the Sunnah of the Prophet." He protested vehemently against all sorts of inno-
vations (bid'ah). He believed that Islam was corrupted by Sufism, pantheism,
theology (Kalam), philosophy, and by all sorts of superstitious beliefs. He
aimed at purging the Muslim society of practices resulting in undue homage to
the tombs of prophets and saints. During his stay in Syria from 692/1292 to
705/1305, ibn Taimiyyah, therefore, wrote books and treatises against the
Sufis, the Mutakallimfin, and the Aristotelian philosophers. It was during the
early part of this period that he personally took part in the war against the
Tartars and the Nusairis. In 702/1302, he participated in the battle of Shaqhab
(a place near Damascus) where he met Caliph al-Malik al-Nasir, Muhammad
ibn Qalawiin, the Mamluk Sultan, and other notables, and urged them all to
join the holy war. Towards the end of 704/1304, he led an army against
the people of Jabal Khusruwan in Syria and inflicted a crushing defeat on
them. Hence, ibn Taimlyyah can also be called a mujdfiid (fighter for the
cause of Islam). In 705/1305, ibn Taimiyyah faced the criticism of his
antagonists in open meetings in the presence of the Deputy of the Mamluk
Sultan, al-Malik al-Nasir, and defeated them by his clear and cogent arguments.
In this very year he proceeded to Cairo and faced a imindzarah (legal debate)
in which an Indian scholar named Shaikh Safi al-Dln al-Hindi played an
important part. It was on the suggestion of this Shaikh that ibn Taimiy-
yah was ordered to be imprisoned in the dungeon of the mountain citadel
with his two brothers for a year and a half. 4 He also suffered imprisonment
at different places for his fatwds (legal decisions) and rasa'il (treatises) against
certain social and religious practices; these excited the indignation of the
scholars of his time, till at last he was interned in the citadel of Damascus in
Sha'ban 726/July 1326. Here his brother Zain al-Dln was permitted to stay
with him, while ibn Taimlyyah's pupil ibn Qayyim al- Jauziyyah was detained
in the same prison for his support. In this prison, ibn Taimlyyah wrote books
and pamphlets defending his own views, and it is said that here he prepared
a commentary on the Holy Qur'an in forty volumes called al-Bahr al-Muklt.
2 Fawat, Vol. I, p. 35.
3 Arba'un, pp. 34-36.
4 Subki, Tabaqat, Vol. V, p. 240, s. v. Muhammad 'Abd al-Rahim ibn Muhammad
al- Shaikh Safi al-Dln al-Hindi, born in India in 644/1246 and died at Damascus
in 715/1315, ten years after the munazarah held in Cairo.
797
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Some of these books fell into the hands of his enemies and he was most ruthlessly
deprived of his books, and pen and ink, after which he wrote with charcoal.
Having been left alone in the prison, he passed his time in devotion to God
till his death on Monday, the 20th of Dhu al-Qa'dah 728/27th September 1328. 5
Ibn Taimiyyah was a prolific writer. Nobody could give a definite number of
his works though al-Kutubi tried to enumerate them under different heads. 6
He left innumerable books, religious decisions, letters, and notes, most of
which he composed while he was in prison. Al-Dhahabi gives the number of
ibn Taimlyyah's books to be approximately five hundred.
In his Bihlah, ibn Battutah says that he himself happened to be in Damascus
at the time of the last imprisonment of ibn Taimiyyah, and that the Sultan
al-Malik al-Nasir released ibn Taimiyyah after the completion of al-Bahr
al-Muhlt, but on a Friday, while he was delivering the Jum'ah sermon on the
pulpit of the city mosque, he uttered the following words: "Verily, Allah
comes down to the sky over our heads in the same fashion as I make this
descent," and he stepped down one step of the pulpit. This was vehemently
opposed by a faqlh (jurist), but ibn Taimiyyah had his supporters who attacked
the faqih and beat him severely with fists and shoes, causing his turban to
fall down on the ground and making his silken shashia (cap) visible on his
head. People objected to his wearing the silken cap and brought him to the
house of the Hanbalite Qadi 'Izz al-Din ibn Muslim, who ordered him to be
. imprisoned and put to torture. But the Maliki and the Shafi'i doctors dis-
approved of this judgment, and brought the case to the notice of Saif al-Din
Tankiz, one of the best and most pious nobles of Damascus, who forwarded the
matter to al-Malik al-Nasir along with some other charges against ibn Taimiy-
yah, such as his decision (fativa) that a woman divorced by triple repudiation
in one utterance will receive one talaq only and that one taking the journey
to the tomb of the Prophet should not shorten his prayers. The Sultan, con-
vinced of these charges, disapproved of ibn Taimlyyah's standpoint and
ordered him to be thrown into the dungeon again.' This report of ibn Battutah
is not chronologically sound. It will be discussed again in connection with the
charge of anthropomorphism against ibn Taimiyyah.
Though ibn Taimiyyah was not successful in his mission during his life-
time, it became clear at his funeral that he exercised a great influence upon
the public. It is said that more than two lacs of men and women attended
his funeral ceremony. Except three persons who were afraid of being stoned
to death for their hostility towards him, all attended his funeral and the
military had to be called in to guard the crowd. 8
5 Fawat, Vol. I, p. 141; Rihlah, Vol. I, p. 216; Majallah, Vol. XXVII, Part II,
p. 196.
6 Faivat, Vol. I, pp. 42 et sqq.
* Bihlah, Vol. I, p. 217.
« Majallah, Vol. XXVII, Part II, p. 193; Fmvat, Vol. I, p. 41.
Ibn Taimiyyah
B
ATTITUDE TOWARDS THEOLOGY AND THE
THEOLOGIANS
Ibn Taimiyyah has left us a number of books and treatises on theology,
but in none of them is he systematic in his treatment of the subject. Problems
of theology and philosophy are scattered throughout his writings, and,
according to al-Kutubi's enumeration, many of them have not yet seen the
light of the day. 9 A number of manuscripts left by ibn Taimiyyah on theology
are also available in England and Germany among which are his Mas'alat
al-'Uluw, al-Kaldm, 'ala Haqiqat al-Islam w-al-Imdn, Su'dl li Ibn Taimiy-
yah, 10 etc., etc.
In his Minhaj 11 as well as other books, ibn Taimiyyah boldly declares that
theology and philosophy have no place in Islam, and that theologians like
al-Juwaini, 13 al-Ghazali. and al-Sfeahrastani 13 who devoted their lives to these
sciences, ultimately understood their defects and returned to the Qur'an and
the Sunnah. Shahrastani. he adds, confessed that it was folly to discuss
theology; al-Razi, in his opinion, contradicts himself in matters of theology
and admitted his perplexity.
In the Minhaj 1 * as well as in his Majmu'at al-Tafslr, 15 ibn Taimiyyah cites
the opinion of Imam Ahmad and abu Yiisuf who said that he who would
seek knowledge by the help of scholastic theology (Kaldm) would turn into
an atheist. He also mentions the opinion of Imam Shafi'i that theologians
should be beaten with shoes and palm-branches, and paraded through the
city so that people may know the consequence of the study of theology.
In his Tafsir Surat al-IkMds, 1 * he tells us that the early leaders (asldf)
tabooed theology since it was vanity, falsehood, and saying unfitting things
about God.
Among the later thinkers Imam Ash'ari (d. 330/941) defended theology in
his Risalah fi Istihsan al-Khaud fi al-Kaldm. In it, he supported the theories
of harakah (motion), sukun (rest), jism (body), 'ard (accident), ijtima' (union),
iftiraq (separation), etc., by the help of the Qur'an. In his opinion, all religious
orders, be they relating to action or belief, have been based on rational argu-
ments and, thus, it is not unlawful to enter into discussion with them. 17 But
Al-Kutubi, Fawat, loc. cit.
This treatise has been edited by Serajul Haque in J ASP, Vol. II, 1957.
M. Sunnah, Vol. Ill, pp. 68 et sqq.
Imam al-ljaramain a bu al-Ma'ali 'Abd al-Malik ibn Yiisuf (d. 478/1085), the
theologian of the fifth/eleventh century.
Abu al-Fath Muhammad ibn 'Abd al-Karim (d. 469/1076).
M. Sunnah, Vol. I, p. 181.
M. Tafsir, pp. 387 et sq.
Ibid., pp. 62 et sq.
Ash'ari, Istihsan al-Khaud, Hyderabad, 1323/1905.
799
A History of Muslim Philosophy
ibn Taimiyyah considered the above theories to be Hellenistic and against
the Qur'an and the Sunnah.
About the Jahmites, 18 ibn Taimiyyah quotes the views of Imam. Ahmad
who said that they told untruths about God when they denied attributes to
Him, and spoke about Him through ignorance. Abu al- 'Abbas ibn Suraij, he
adds, disapproved of the theories of atoms and accidents. Once, in answer to a
question raised in Kaldm, he said, "The doctrine of the unity of God to the
vain people is to enter into the discussion of atoms and accidents (jawahir wa
a'rad)." These terms did not exist in Islam during the time of the Prophet.
It was the Jahmites and the Mu'tazilites who first invented them; Ja'd ibn
Dirham 19 was mainly responsible for this invention. This Ja'd was executed
by ibn 'Abd Allah ibn al-Qasri ao at Wasit on account of his Kaldm {theology).
The story goes that before executing Ja'd, ibn 'Abd Allah stood on a pulpit
(minbar) and addressed the people saying, "0 men, offer your sacrifice to
God. Surely I am offering my victim in the person of Ja'd who says that God
did not take Abraham as His friend, nor did He speak to Moses. God is far
above what Ja'd attributes to Him." He then got down from the pulpit and
cut off Ja'd's head. 21
Ibn Taimiyyah refutes the views of al-Imam Hilli who expressed in his
Minhaj al-Karamah Z2 that Hadrat 'Ali was the originator of theology. Ibn
Taimiyyah opposes this theory as 'Ali could not go against the Qur'an and
the Sunnah, and none among the Companions (Sahabah) or their followers
(Tabi'un) ever discussed the phenomenal nature of the world as derived
from the origination of bodies (hudHth al-ajsam). He repeats that theology
came into existence at the end of the first/seventh century. It was Ja'd ibn
Dirham and Jahm ibn Safwan who introduced it, and eventually the pupils
of 'Amr ibn 'Ubaid like abu al-Hudhail al-'Allaf and others carried it on.
The object of 'Amr and Wasil in propagating the above theory was to intro-
duce into Islam the idea that God's power is not unlimited and that sinners
will abide in hell for ever. 23
From the foregoing statements, it is evident that ibn Taimiyyah generally
uses Kalam in its pre-Ash'arite sense of Mu'tazilite theology, though later he
does not spare the Ash'arite views either.
Let us now discuss the divine attributes with reference to ibn Taimiyyah's
refutation of the Jahmite and the Mu'tazilite views.
According to ibn Taimiyyah, it was Ja'd ibn Dirham, a Jahmite, who first
professed that "God is not seated on His Throne," and that istiwa' means
18 The loader of this group Jahm ibn Safwan, was put to death at Merv in
128/745 for his heretical doctrines. Baghdadi, Farq, p. 19; §hahrastani, Vol. I,
p. 60; Bukhari in the last book of his Sahlh refutes the Jahmite views.
i» Mizan, Vol. I, p. 185, No. 1443; ibn Hajar, Lisan, Vol. II, p. 105, No. 427.
so Khalid ibn 'Abd Allah (66-126/685-743).
« Ihhlas, p. 63; Ba'labakkiyah, p. 392.
22 Fol. 58/B. IOL. Loth. 471.
23 M. Sunnah, Vol. IV, pp. 144 et sqq.
Ibn Taimiyyah
istaula," that is, God is the master of His Throne and not that "He is settled
on it." This idea was then taken up by Jahm ibn Safwan (d. 128/745). Conse-
quently, a new system of scriptural interpretation became popular at the close
of the second/eighth century at the hand of Bishr ibn Ghiyath al-Marisi (d.218
or 219/833 or 834) and his followers. 24 The Mu'tazilite doctrine of divine, attri-
butes was publicly preached during the last part of the third/ninth century 28
and then the Shi'ite doctors, Mufid, 28 Musawi, 27 and Tusi, 28 adopted it.
The beliefs that God is eternal and that "He exists without His attributes"
are dogmas of the Jahmites and the Mu'tazilites. In regard to God's knowledge,
power, seeing, hearing, etc., the older ultra- Imami sect was downright anthropo-
morphist, while subsequent generations went further and denied the existence
of all divine attributes. 29 The Karramites, 30 in his opinion, were anthropo-
morphists. The Sunnites were unanimous in declaring that God was totally
unlike men in His essence, qualities, and actions. The traditionists, the herme-
neutists, the Sufis, the four jurists and their followers, never believed in
anthropomorphism. The accusation that has been levelled at jurists like Malik,
Shafi'i, Ahmad, and their followers, is based on sheer misunderstanding. These
jurists in affirming the divine attributes never maintained that these attributes
resembled bodily forms. 31
Ibn Taimiyyah further maintains that the word qadlm (eternal) relating to
God, on which the Jahmites and their followers base their arguments, has not
received a place among His asmd' al-husna {beautiful names) though the word
awwal (first) is one of them. Awwal does not signify that God alone exists
without His attributes from eternity and pre-existenee. The attributes that
are always associated with God indicate only one God. The Sunnites do not
maintain that God's eternity needs some additional eternal essence. The
statement that the divine attributes are additional to His essence (dhat) is
to be taken in the sense that they are additional to the concept of the essence
held by the nufat (deniers of God's qualities) and not in the sense that
there is in God an essence denuded of attributes and the attributes are
separate from and additional to the essence. 38 For example, whenever an
attribute is attached to a locus (makatt), its relation is established with the
object itself and not with anything else. When a thing, associated with black-
ness and whiteness, is set in motion, it is sure to move with those qualities
alone and not with anything else. God, to whom are attributed speech, volition,
34 MRK, Vol. I, pp. 425 et sq.
25 M .^Sunnah, Vol. J. p. 172.
26 Muhammad ibn Muhammad ibn al-Nu'man al-Muffd {336-413/947-1022),
teacher of al-Tusi.
27 Sharif al-Rida' a] -Musawi, Yaqut, Vol. V, p. 174.
28 Muhammad ibn Hasan ibn 'Ali al-Tusi (d. 460/1067).
29 M. Sunnah, Vol. I, pp. 172-74.
30 Followers of abu 'Abd Allah Muhammad ibn Karram (d. 255/868).
31 M. Sunnah, Vol. I, pp. 172-74.
32 Ibid.
801
A History of Muslim Philosophy
love, anger, and pleasure, must actually be associated with all of them with-
out any additional qualities that have not been ascribed to Him. One who
is speechless, motionless or inactive cannot be called speaker (mutakattim),
mover (mutaharrik), or doer (fa'il). So to attribute life, power, knowledge,
etc., to God without associating them with His essence, as the Jahmites and
their followers do, indicates that God lives without life, is powerful without
power, and knows without knowledge, while the Qur'an and the Sunnah
abound with proofs that God is associated with His attributes. 33
Ibn Taimiyyah's Anthropomorphism. — From the above discussions and the
similar contents of his al-'Aqidat al-Hamamyyat al-Kvbra, 3i people misunder-
stood ibn Taimiyyah and suspected him to be an anthropomorphist. They
thought that he taught, according to the literal meaning of the Qur'an and
the Sunnah, that God has hands, feet, face, etc., and that He is settled on His
Throne. The objection of the theologians was that if God possessed limbs and
sat on the Throne, then He must be possessed of spatial character (tahayyuz)
and subject to division (inqisdm). Ibn Taimiyyah refused to admit that
"spatial character" and "divisibility" are the essence of bodies (ajsam). Ibn
Battutah's statement that at Damascus he heard ibn Taimiyyah addressing
the people saying, "Verily, God descends to the sky over our world (from
heaven) in the same way as I make this descent," while he stepped down
one step of the pulpit, is nothing but a canard. This story, as we have noticed, 35
has been so skilfully concocted that it appears to be a real occurrence. But
when we examine this report, we cannot believe that such a thing could have
ever happened during the visit of ibn Battiitah to Damascus. Ibn Battiitah,
as we understand from his own description, entered Damascus on 19th
Ramadan 726/23rd August 1326, whereas ibn Taimiyyah had been imprisoned
more than a month earlier (on the 6th of Sha'ban of the same year) without
being allowed to come out before his death in 726/1328. 36 In his al-'Aqidat
al-Tadmuriyyah, 37 ibn Taimiyyah clearly states, "Whoever considers God to
be similar to the body of men or an originated thing to be similar to Him,
is telling untruth about God. He who maintains that God is not a body and
means by it that no originated thing is similar to Him is right, though the
word body (jism) as applied here is an innovation (bid'ah)." He further
says that we should say of God what He has said of Himself or what the
Prophet has said about Him, and declares that the early Muslims ascribed
to God attributes "without asking how" (bila half), and without drawing
analogy (tamthil), or making alterations (tahrlf), or divesting Him of his
33 Ibid., p. 178.
** See MRK, Vol. I.
35 Supra, p. 798.
36 See the article by Bahjat al-Baitar in MajaUah Majma' al-'Ilm al-'Arabi,
Damascus, Vol. XXVII, Part III, p. 411.
« MS. Berl. No. 1995, fol. 54(b).
802
Ibn Taimiyyah
attributes (ta'til), zs Ibn Taimiyyah believes in "God's settling Himself on
His Throne" as it befits Him, without any resemblance to human action. He
quotes the opinion of the early Muslims who stood between ta'til and tamthil. 39
The above evidence clearly shows that in his interpretation of the divine
attributes, ibn Taimiyyah attempted rather to guard himself against the
charge of anthropomorphism. While refuting the Jahmite and the Mu'tazilite
conception of the divine attributes, he vehemently opposed their views which
divested God of the Qur'anic expressions of face, hands, etc., as understood
by the Arabs and attempted to substitute the usual meanings of these
expressions by metaphorical interpretations. In his opinion, it would be absurd
to suppose that the later generations should have had a deeper insight into
and a better understanding of the divine attributes than the Prophet and his
Companions who never attempted to explain them in terms of philosophy.
It is for this reason that he attacked the theologians who attached the highest
value to human reason as a criterion for understanding the divine attributes.
Unlike other European scholars, H. Laoust is also of the opinion that the
charge of anthropomorphism against ibn Taimiyyah is incompatible with his
methodology and with "the positive content of his theodicy." 40
Al- Qur'an Kaldm Allah Ghair Makkluq (The Holy Qur'an is the Uncreated
Word of God). — With regard to this problem, ibn Taimiyyah not only accuses
a section of people of maintaining that the Qur'an is created, but goes a step
further and interprets the words gkair makhffiq (uncreated) as eternal (qadim).
He considers this an innovation (bid'ah) which resulted from their contro-
versies with the Mu'tazilites and Kullabites in defining the uncreatedness of
the Qur'an. Such a theory was unknown to the early Muslims. It was Ja'd
ibn Dirham along with Jahm ibn Safwan who first introduced the heretical
theory that the Qur'an is created, whereas it is the Word of God, and so
is uncreated. 41
Wahi (Revelation). — Ibn Taimiyyah admits the commonly accepted view
as to the three forms of revelation received by the Prophet : received (i) in
a waking state as well as in dreams, (ii) from behind a veil, and (iii) through
an angel. 48 But to these he adds a fourth, namely, revelation common to all
(al-wahi al-mushtarak), prophets and others. This he derives from a saying
of 'Ubadah ibn Samit and from the verses in the Qur'an which speak of reve-
lation to people other than prophets; 43 for example, God speaks with His
servants in their dreams. It is this common revelation which the philosophers
like ibn Slna and others are said to have gained. But he emphatically
38 Ibid., fol. 2(a); MRK, Vol. I, p. 428.
39 MRK, Vol. I, pp. 428-29.
40 H. Laoust, Qudques opinions sur la theodicee d'Ibn Taimiya, Memoires
publics, Cairo, 1937, Vol. LXIII, pp. 431-43.
41 Jawab, pp. 74-87.
42 Qur'an, xlii, 50.
43 Ibid., v, 3; xxviii, 6.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
denies that Aristotle had any share in prophecy. His contemporaries were
worshippers of planets and were unaware of the prophets like Abraham or
Moses. Unlike Empedocles, Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato who believed
at least in the origination (huduth) of the celestial spheres, Aristotle professed
"the doctrine of the eternity of the heavens," which, according to ibn Taimly-
yah, clearly shows that he had no share of wahi al-mushtarak, mentioned
above. 44
ATTITUDE TOWARDS PHILOSOPHY
In his refutation of Aristotelian metaphysics and logic, ibn Taimlyyah left
the following independent books in addition to what he wrote against them
in many other writings: —
1. Kitab al-Radd 'ala al-Mantiqiyyin, edited by 'Abd al-Samad Sharaf al-
Din al-Kutubi, Bombay, 1949.
2. Bayan Muwdfiqat Sank al-Ma'qul li Sahih al-Manqul on the margin of
Minhaj al-Sunnah, 4 Vols., Cairo, 1321/1903.
3. Naqd al-Mantiq, edited by Shaikh Muhammad Hamid al-Faqqi, Cairo,
1370/1951. «
4. Al-Radd 'ala Falsafat-i Ibn Rushd published at the end of Fad al-Maqal
and al-Kashf of Ibn Rushd, Cairo, n.d.
5. Kitab al-'Aql w-al-Naql on the margin of his Minhaj al-Sunnah, Cairo,
1321-23/1903-05.
His Tafsir Sural al-lhhlas (Cairo, 1323/1905) also sheds sufficient light on
his views on philosophy and theology.
Ibn Taimlyyah is not the first man to speak against the unsoundness of
Aristotelian philosophy. In his Kitab al-Radd 'ala al-Mantiqiyyin, ibn Taimly-
yah mentions that Hasan ibn Miisa al-Naubakhti, under whom Thabit ibn
Qurrah and others translated Greek sciences, had written his Kitab al-Ard"
w-al-Diyanah pointing out the fallacies of Aristotle. Moreover, Hibat Allah
ibn 'Ali abu Barakat, a courtier of Mustanjid bi Allah, left a book on the
refutation of Aristotle's philosophy. 46 The famous Muslim physician and philo-
sopher abuZakariyah al-Razi (d.c. 313/925) was a great opponent of Aristotle's
philosophy and supported Pythagoras. In his opinion, Aristotle "had not
only ruined philosophy but had also perverted its very principles." Ibn Hazm
of Andalus (d. 456/1063) and the Mu'tazilite al-Nazzam (d. 231/845) were
44 See Serajul Haque, "A Letter of Ibn Taimiyya to Abu al-Fida" in Dokumenta
Islamica Inedita, Akademie Verlag, Berlin, 1952, pp. 155 et sqq.
4i This is perhaps identical with No. 1.
46 Cf. Sayyid Sulaiman Nadawi, "Muslims and Greek Schools of Philosophy,"
Islamic Culture, Hyderabad Deccan, Vol. I, p. 87.
804
Ibn Taimlyyah
also against the philosophy of Aristotle. Abu 'Ali al- Jubba'i (d. 303/915) left
a book in refutation of Aristotle's book De generatione et de corruptione.* 7
In his Kitab al-'Aql w-al-Naql, ibn Taimlyyah says, "Look at the followers
of Aristotle! They are following him blindly, while many of them know full
well that their master's theories are wrong. Still it is their pious belief which
prevents them from refuting them in spite of the fact that many wise men
have proved that there are undeniable and indubitable errors in his logical
system, and they support them only for the reason that they are associated
with his name. In metaphysics also Aristotle and his followers have committed
blunders." 48
In his Kitab al-Radd 'ala al-Mantiqiyyin,** ibn Taimlyyah says that, accord-
ing to Aristotelian logic, knowledge is of two kinds, namely, based on concept
(tasawwur) and that on judgment (tasdiq), both of which are either immediate
(badihi) or mediate (nazari). It is evident that all kinds of knowledge cannot
be immediate or self-evident. Similarly, all kinds of knowledge cannot be
mediate or acquired as in that case, to gain the knowledge of a mediate
concept, one would have to depend on another mediate concept leading to a
circle (daur) or endless chain (tasalsul) both of which are logically impossible.
Logicians further hold that the concepts and the judgments which are mediate
(nazari) require some means to reach them, and, therefore, the way through
which concepts are reached, is called hadd (definition), and the way through
which judgments are arrived at is called qiyds (syllogism). Hence hadd and qiyds
are the two fundamental bases on which the whole structure of Aristotelian
logic stands. In order to refute the Aristotelian logic, ibn Taimlyyah en-
deavoured to demolish these fundamental bases at four points which serve as
the four main chapters of his Kitab al-Radd 'ala al-Mantiqiyyin:
I. The desired concept cannot be obtained except by means of definition
(hadd).
II. Definition gives the knowledge of concepts.
III. The desired judgment cannot be obtained except by means of syllogism.
IV. Syllogism or ratiocination gives the knowledge of judgment.
It may be noted here that of the above propositions the first and the third
are negative, while the second and the fourth are affirmative. The main
targets of ibn Taimiyyah's refutation were the "definition" and "syllogism"
of Aristotelian logic.
I. The first basic proposition of the logicians that concepts cannot be
obtained except by means of definition has been refuted by ibn Taimlyyah on
the following grounds : 50
47 Ibid., p. 86.
48 Ibid., p. 89.
49 AhRadd, p. 4.
50 Ibid., pp. 7-14, 180.
805
A History of Muslim Philosophy
(i) It is a negative proposition for which the logicians have not advanced
any proof (dalll). Such a negative proposition cannot be accepted as the
basis of positive knowledge. Therefore, the very first proposition of Aristotelian
logic is based on a wrong foundation. Hence, such a logic cannot be treated
as a science which, according to the logicians, only protects human under-
standing from committing mistakes.
(ii) When the definition is the word of the definer, the definer will under-
stand the thing defined either with the help of a (previous) definition or with-
out any definition. Now, if he understands the thing denned by a previous
definition, then his words in the second definition will be as good as his words
in the first definition which will necessarily lead to a circle (daur ) or endless
chain (tasalsul) in the reasoning process, both of which are impossible. If he
understands the object defined without any definition, then the assertion in
the proposition that "concepts cannot be obtained except with the help of
definition" stands refuted.
(iii) People of different branches of learning and professions know their
affairs well without taking recourse to definitions.
(iv) No definition universally agreed upon has yet been found. For instance,
nobody has so far been able to offer any definition of the two famous terms
"man" and "sun" on which all could agree. In philosophy, theology, medicine,
grammar, etc., many contradictory definitions have, thus, come down to us.
Now, the logicians maintain that concept is dependent on definition, but
as no agreed definition of anything has yet been made, ibn Taimlyyah declares
that no concept in the proper sense of the term has yet been formed. Similarly,
the logicians believe that judgment is dependent on concept (tasawwur), but
since concept has not yet been obtained (in the proper sense of the term),
judgment also has not yet been arrived at. The result, in the opinion of ibn
Taimlyyah, is the worst type of sophistication. 51
(v) Logicians say that the concept of quiddity (mahlyyah) can only be
arrived at by definitions which are composed of genus (jins) and differentia
(fast). The logicians themselves have admitted that this sort of definition is
either impossible or rarely found. But ibn Taimlyyah opines that the true
significance of things may be achieved by men without definition and, there-
fore, concepts are not dependent on definitions.
(vi) To the logicians, correct definitions are the combination of genus and
differentia, but that which is simple and unitary, like each of the "intellects"
f'-uqul), has no definition; still they define it and hold it to be a concept. This
shows that sometimes concepts do not need definition. If this is possible, then
the species which are nearer to perception and are visible can be conceived
in a way which is surer and better than the type of knowledge which is derived
from the combination of genus and differentia.
(vii) The definition of a thing consists of several terms each of which indicates
51 Ibid., p. 8.
Ibn Taimlyyah
a definite meaning. Unless a man knows the terms and their meaning before-
hand, it is not possible for him to understand the definition itself. For instance,
a man who does not know what bread is cannot know it by its definition.
Here ibn Taimlyyah makes a distinction between conception (faswir) and
differentiation (tamiz) and sides with the Mutakallimun (scholastic theologians)
who hold that things are actually known by differentiation and not by de-
finition.
(viii) When the definition is the word of the definer, the definer must have
the knowledge of the object defined before defining it. It is, therefore, wrong
to say that the conception of a thing depends on definition.
(ix) Concepts of existing things are derived either through external senses
or through internal senses, none of which stands in need of any definition.
Here ibn Taimlyyah observes that whatever cannot be known through the
senses can be known through valid inference but not through definition.
(x) Logicians say that a definition should be rejected by means of refutation
and contradiction. Ibn Taimiyyah argues that refutation or contradiction is
possible only when one has already formed a conception of the object defined.
So it is proved that concepts may be formed without the help of definition.
(xi) Knowledge of a particular thing may be self-evident to some, but
acquired by others. Similarly, things which are not self-evident to some
may be self-evident to others who would, therefore, need no definition for
their knowledge of them. Hence it is wrong to say that knowledge depends
on definition.
II. The refutation of the second proposition of the logicians, that definition
gives the knowledge of concept, forms the second chapter of ibn Taimlyyah's
Kitab al-Radd. 52 In the opinion of ibn Taimiyyah, logicians and scholastic
theologians gave different interpretations of definition. Greek logicians and
their Muslim and non-Muslim followers claimed that definition contained the
description of the object defined, while the prominent scientists held that
definition served as a distinction between the object defined and the object
not defined. Therefore, definition cannot give the knowledge of a concept.
That definition offers true significance of the object defined and gives the
knowledge of concept, has been refuted by ibn Taimlyyah on the following
grounds.
(i) Definition is a mere statement of the definer. For example, when man
is defined as "rational animal," it is a statement that may be right or wrong.
It is a mere assertion without any proof. The listener may understand it
with or without its definition. In the former case, he knows it without proof
which may or may not be correct, while in the latter case the definition
serves no purpose.
(ii) Logicians say that definition neither rejects the proof nor needs it.
Unlike syllogism (qiyas), definition can be rejected by refutation or contra-
1 Ibid., pp. 14-87.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
diction. To this ibn Taimiyyah replies that when the definer fails to advance
any proof in favour of the correctness of the definition, the listener cannot
understand the object defined by a mere definition which may or may not be
correct.
(iii) If the conception of the object defined is attained by the definition,
then it is obtained before one has known the correctness of the definition,
since the knowledge of the correctness of the definition is not attained except
after one has known the object defined.
(iv) The knowledge of the object defined depends on the knowledge of the
thing (named) and of its attributes which the logicians call essential attributes
(at-sifat al-dhatiyyah) and names as "the parts of definition," "parts of quid-
dity," etc., etc. If the listener does not know that the object defined is
attributed with those attributes, he cannot conceive it. If he knows that the
thing is attributed with those qualities, he has known them without any
definition. 53
Ibn Taimiyyah then advances four similar arguments and proves that
definitions do not offer true significance of the objects defined. 54
III. The third proposition of the logicians, that judgments cannot be
attained except by means of syllogism, has been refuted by our author on the
following grounds: 55
(i) It is an uncertain claim and a negative proposition in favour of which
they have not advanced any proof. According to ibn Taimiyyah, both the
self-evident (badihi) and the acquired (nazari) forms of knowledge are
relative. If some people failed to attain judgments without the help of
syllogism, it does not mean that nobody from among the children of Adam
knows the judgments without syllogism.
(ii) Knowledge of a thing does not depend on a particular syllogistic process
of thinking. Khobar al-mutawatir (universally accepted traditions and ex-
periences) gives the knowledge of judgments, while syllogism does not. To
one a premise is perceptible, while to another it is not. Therefore, its
conclusion (natijah) is undependable. 56 Ibn Taimiyyah admits that when
the premises are correct, the conclusions are also correct, but then he does
not admit that knowledge depends on syllogism. 57
(iii) According to the logicians, the syllogistic process of gaining knowledge
requires two premises, but ibn Taimiyyah says that such a knowledge may
be attained by one, two, three, or even more premises according to the needs
and requirements of an argument. Some persons, he adds, may not require
any premise at all, since they know the matter by some other source (e.g.,
intuition). /The saying of the Prophet: "Every intoxicating thing is wine, and
53 Ibid., p. 39.
" Ibid., pp. 32-39.
55 Ibid., pp. 88, 240.
50 Ibid., pp. 92, 298.
57 Ibid., p. 298.
Ibn Taimiyyah
all kinds of wine are unlawful," does not, in any way, support the syllogistic
process of thinking in Islam. The Prophet never adopted such a process in
gaining knowledge of a thing. Every Muslim knows that wine (khamr) is
unlawful, and he does not stand in need of two premises to prove that all
intoxicating drinks are unlawful. 58 The very first figure of syllogism, therefore,
says ibn Taimiyyah, does not require the roundabout way of inference for
obtaining the conclusion. 59
The logicians claim that ratiocination gives the benefit of perfect knowledge,
and that it deals with the knowledge of "universals," the best of which are
the ten intellects (al-'uqvl al-'ashrah) which do not accept any change or
alteration and through which the soul (al-nafs) attains perfection. The
"universals" are attained by intellectual propositions which are necessary,
such as "All men are animal," and "Every existing thing is either necessary
or possible," and the like which do not accept any change. Ibn Taimiyyah
opposes this claim on the following grounds: 80
(i) According to the logicians, since ratiocination deals only with intellectual
matters having no connection with the physical world, it gives no knowledge
of existing things. We may, therefore, consider it useless for all practical
purposes.
(ii) Ratiocination does not help us in understanding the Necessary Existent
(wajib al-wujud), the ten intellects (al-'uqul al-'ashrah), the heavens (al-
afldk), the elements f'anasirarba'ah), or the created things (muwalladdt) in
the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms.
(iii) The science of divinity to the logicians is not the knowledge of the
Creator nor that of the created. They call it metaphysics ('ilmu ma ba'd
al-tabi'ah), but some name it as "the science of divinity," the subject-matter
of which is the "simple universals" which they divide into "necessary,
possible, eternal, accidental, essence, accident," all of which have no existence
in the physical world. 61
Ibn Taimiyyah then traces the origin of logic to geometry. He, therefore,
says that:
(iv) Logicians gave the geometrical forms of argumentation in their logic
and called them "terms" (hudud) like those of Euclid's geometry in order
to transfer this method from the physical object to the intellectual one.
This is due to the bankruptcy of their intellect and their inability to derive
knowledge through a direct process. But Allah has given to the Muslims more
knowledge and perspecuity of expression combined with good action and
faith than to all classes of people. 62
The logicians admit that divine knowledge is not objective. It follows that
58 Ibid., pp. 168 et sq.
59 Ibid., p. 200.
60 Ibid., pp. 122-26.
61 Ibid., p. 126.
62 Ibid., pp. 137 et sq.
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
it has no existence either in the intellectual or in the physical world. It is a
"universal knowledge" which does not exist except in imagination. Therefore,
there is nothing in this knowledge for the perfection of the soul.
(v) Perfection of the soul depends on both knowledge of God and virtuous
action ('amal sdlih), and not on philosophy. Knowledge alone cannot elevate
the soul. Good action must be there, because the soul has two functions,
one theoretical and the other practical. Service to God consists of knowledge
of God and love for Him, and God sent the prophets to call people to
worship Him. Similarly, faith (Iman) in God does not mean knowledge of
God only, as the Jahmites believe. It consists of both knowledge and practice. 63
IV. The fourth proposition of the logicians, that syllogism or ratiocination
gives the knowledge of judgments (tasdiqdt), has been refuted by ibn Taimiy-
yah in the fourth section of his book where he discusses the topic elaborately
in about three hundred pages. 64 In this section, the author seeks to prove the
futility of syllogism in attaining knowledge, and often ridicules the renowned
logicians by citing their alleged death-bed recantations. « s Here he repeats in
a new way almost all that he has said in the previous chapters about
definition and syllogism of Aristotelian logic and brings in many irrelevant
topics in favour of his arguments. He considers the syllogistic process of
thinking artificial and useless. In his opinion, God has endowed human beings
with "necessary knowledge" to understand their Creator and His attributes.
But men invented, from the very early times, various sciences which the
Shartah of Islam does not require for the guidance of mankind. 66
Syllogism, as has been said before, does not give us the knowledge of existing
things even when it is apparently correct. Sure knowledge or judgment may
be attained even by a single premise without undergoing the syllogistic pro-
cess. Here, ibn Taimiyyah blames the philosophers who, from differences in
the movements of the stars, inferred that there are nine heavens and that the
eighth and the ninth heavens are the kursi (Chair) and the 'arsh (Throne)
of God, respectively. He hates Aristotle and his followers for believing in the
eternity of the world (qidam al-'dlam), though most of the philosophers were
against this view. They put forward further different theories regarding the
life-span of this world based on the calculations of the movements of the
heavens. Some said that the world would be destroyed after twelve thousand
years, while others held that it would last up to thirty-six thousand years,
and so on. To ibn Taimiyyah these inferences were baseless and unfruitful. 67
Ibn Taimiyyah considers Aristotle to be ignorant of the science of divinity,
and accuses ibn Sina of having adulterated it with heretical views of the
Batiniyyah who interpreted Islamic Skari'ah according to their whims
3 Ibid., pp. 138, 144 et sq.
* Ibid., pp. 246-545.
5 Ibid., pp. 248, 321.
6 Ibid., pp. 256 et sq.
7 Ibid., pp. 267 et sq.
Ibn Taimiyyah
and false ratiocination. Some of them, according to our author, said that the
Prophet was the greatest philosopher, while others went so far as to say that
the philosophers were greater than the prophets. Sufis like ibn 'Arabi, ibn
Sab'in, al-Qiinawi, Tilimsani, etc., followed these heretical views of the Batiniy-
yah and used Islamic terms in naming their theories. Some of these Sufis,
namely, ibn Sab'in and his followers, did not distinguish between Islam and
other religions like Christianity and Judaism. Followers of any religion could
approach them and become their disciples without changing their faith. 68
To ibn Taimiyyah knowledge of the particular is surer than knowledge of
the universal. Therefore, there is not much benefit in the study of inductive
logic in which knowledge of the individuals leads to knowledge of the universal.
Moreover, knowledge of the individual is derived more quickly than knowledge
of the universal which is often gained (by common sense or intuition) with-
out undergoing any syllogistic process. 69
Ibn Taimiyyah opines that in syllogism (qiyds) conclusion may be drawn
out of one term only, and that it does not require sughra and hubra (minor
and major) terms for drawing conclusions, because he who knows the
universal quality of a class also knows that this quality is available in every
individual. 70 Ibn Taimiyyah further believes that the teachings of the
prophets include all the scriptural and the rational proofs. In support of his
view, he cites a number of Qur'anie verses, e. g. :
"Lo! those who wrangle concerning the revelation of Allah without a
warrant having come unto them, there is naught else in their breasts but
(the quest of) greatness, which they shall never attain to." 71
"And when their messengers brought them clear proofs (of Allah's sovereign-
ty), they exalted in the knowledge they (themselves) possessed and that which
they were wont to mock befell them." 72
Keeping in view the real existence of concepts, ibn Taimiyyah adds that
the philosophers divided knowledge of things into three classes: physical,
mathematical, and philosophical. Of these, philosophical knowledge deals with
some theoretical problems relating to the existence of simple universals. 78
It has nothing to do with practical purposes and is, therefore, useless.
Ratiocination, in the opinion of our author, does not prove the existence
of the Creator. The universals, according to the logicians, have no independent
external existence. They exist intellectually, and cannot, therefore, prove the
existence of a definite being distinguishable from the rest of existence. 7 *
Moreover, in syllogism a complete conception of the middle term saves us from
« 8 Ibid., pp. 278-83.
69 Ibid., p. 316.
70 Ibid., pp. 337-40.
71 Qur'an, xl, 56.
72 Ibid., xl, 83.
73 Al-Radd, pp. 324 et sqq.
74 Ibid., p. 344.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
logical inference. Because a person who knows that wine is forbidden, and
every intoxicating (drink) is wine, certainly knows already that every intoxi-
cating (drink) is forbidden (without going through the syllogistic process of
thinking). 76
Such are the arguments of ibn Taimiyyah in proving his assertion that
syllogism does not give us the benefit of a new judgment.
Now, let us see how ibn Taimiyyah refutes the views of the scholastic philo-
sophers by tackling the theories of atom, body, similarity of bodies (tamdthul
al-ajsdm), etc., and declares that all these are innovations in Islam, and that
scholars have failed to come to any agreement about them.
Theory of the Atom.— This theory was held by most of the scholastic theo-
logians including the Jahmites, the Mu'taziUtes, and the Ash'arites. Some
of these atomists held that bodies were combinations of atoms existing by
themselves, and that God does not destroy any of them. He destroys only
the accidents (a'rad), namely, their union (ijtimd 1 ), their separation (iftirdq),
their motion (harakah), and their rest (sukun). Others maintained that atoms
are phenomenal : God created them ex nihilo, and once they come into existence
they are never destroyed, though accidents may be destroyed. This view was
held by most of the Jahmites, the Mu'taziUtes, and the Ash'arites. Most of
them, further, believed that it was supported even by ijma 1 (consensus). Ibn
Taimiyyah rejects this theory on the ground that it is an innovation and that
early Muslims knew nothing about it. Further, the theologians are not
unanimous; some of them totally deny the existence of atoms and the
composition of bodies from them. 76
Theory of the Body.— Some opine that a thing which is definite or which
has dimensions is called a body, while others say that it is a combination of
two atoms, whereas some people maintain that it is a combination of four
atoms or more up to thirty-two. Besides these, a class of philosophers
holds that bodies are formed not of atoms but of matter and form, while
many other scholastics and non-.scholastics profess that bodies are neither
a combination of atoms nor of matter and form. Even Imam al-Haramain
al-Juwaini (d. 478/1085), the teacher of Imam al-Ghazali, doubted the
combination of matter and form, though it is reported that he himself trans-
mitted this as a view accepted by ijma 1 (consensus). 77
Theory of the Similarities of Bodies.— This theory is popular among some
Muslim philosophers. The upholders of this theory profess that bodies of all
kinds are at bottom alike, because they are the combinations of atoms which
are themselves like one another. The difference between one body and another
is the difference of accidents (a'rad). Ibn Taimiyyah rejects this theory, first,
on the ground that it has been refuted by Razi and Amidi along with many
other philosophers; secondly, because al-Ash'ari also rejects it in his Kitab
75 Ibid., pp. 351 ct sq.
•>' IMlas, p. 16.
'- Ibid-ip. 50.
Ibn Taimiyyah
al-Ibdnah for being a theory of the Mu'taziUtes ; thirdly, because the upholders
of this theory, in accordance with the principles of the Jahmites and the
Qadarites, maintain that to each individual body God gives accidents (a'rad)
pecuhar to itself. According to them, the species (ajnas) cannot change from
one into another. A body does not turn into accidents nor one species of
accidents into another. If it is argued against them (the philosophers) that
since all bodies are phenomenal and all phenomenal things turn from one to
another, it necessarily proves the change of species, they would say in reply
that matter (mdddah) in all kinds of creation is the same. It is the qualities
(sifdt) that change due to union (ijtima 1 ), separation (iftirdq), motion
(harakah), and rest (sukun), while matter (mdddah) remains unchanged at
all stages of creation. To ibn Taimiyyah, this argument is a mere assumption
of the philosophers who have observed only the phenomenal change in things
without having any knowledge whatsoever of the essence which they claim
remains unchanged. These philosophers, ibn Taimiyyah continues, further
assert that all things are combinations of atoms preserved in matter, and
that on the basis of this theory they are divided into two groups. One group
maintains that the atoms of which a body is constituted will be destroyed and
then created afresh, while the other maintains that the parts of a body are
separated but will again be united in the next world. Unfortunately, the latter
have to answer a riddle. If a man is eaten up by an animal (say a fish) and
then the animal is eaten up by another man, then how would he be raised on
the day of resurrection ? In reply, some of them say that in the human body
there are certain parts that cannot be dissolved and in these parts there is
nothing of that animal which has been eaten up by the second man. Ibn
Taimiyyah objects to this and points out that according to the scientists
('uqala' ) there is nothing in the human body that cannot be dissolved and
that, according to the aslaf (earlier writers), the fuqahd' (jurists), and also the
people in general, one body (jism) turns into another by losing its identity
completely. On the basis of this the jurists discussed the problem whether an
impure thing may become pure when it is changed into another; for example,
they agreed that if a pig falls into a salt-mine and becomes salt, it will be
lawful for a Muslim to eat that salt. Thus, ibn Taimiyyah comes to the con-
clusion that the arguments in favour of the theory of the similarity of bodies
are not sustainable. He believes that bodies are dissimilar and interchangeable.
Theory of Motion. — Philosophers among the Jahmites and the Mu'taziUtes
have argued about the origination of bodies (huduth al-ajsdm) from the story
of Abraham, who refused to call the stars, the moon, and the sun his lords
(rubub).' 18 They hold that Abraham did not worship these heavenly bodies
simply on the ground of their motion and shift (al-harakat w-al-intiqdl) as
suggested by the word uful in the Qur'an. 79 In other words, they maintained
78 For the full story see Qur'an, vi, 76 et sqq.
79 Ibid., vi, 77-79.
813
A History of Muslim Philosophy
that motion and shift are the distinctive signs of the origination of bodies. 80
Ibn Taimlyyah rejects the theory on the following grounds:
(i) No such theory was maintained by the Muslim scholars nor is there any
indication anywhere that Abraham's people ever thought of it. Why Abraham s
people worshipped the heavenly bodies may be attributed to their superstitious
beliefs that they would bring them good luck and save them from evil. That
is why Abraham said, "0 my people, I share not with you the guilt of joining
sods with God." 81
(ii) To the Arabs the word uful means setting (of the sun, the moon, etc.)
and being covered by veils. They did not mean by it "motion" and "shift
as understood by these philosophers.
(iii) "Motion" and "shift" in the heavenly bodies exist at all times. There
was no reason for Abraham to ascribe "motion" and "shift" to the heavenly
bodies only at the time of their disappearance. He could recognize them even
before they disappeared from the sky. It was on account of such misinter-
pretations that ibn Slna arrived at the wrong conclusion that "disappearance
is the possibility of existence and everything the existence of which is possible
is liable to disappear." 82 .
The theory of indestructible atoms held by the philosophers goes against
the agreement of the learned people ('ulanm') that one thing may turn into
another and that the atoms have no existence, just as the intellectual atoms
(al-jawahir <d-'atfiyydh) of the Peripatetics are mere conjectures. 83 ^
The actual cause of the divergence of opinion among the 'ulanm as sug-
gested by ibn Taimiyyah, was their invention of certain equivocal terms
For example, what is an indivisible atom ? It is obvious that most intelligent
people have failed to conceive of it. Those who are supposed to have understood
it could not prove it, and those who were said to have proved it had to take
shelter under long and far-fetched interpretations. 8 * None of the Companions
of the Prophet nor their Successors nor anyone prior to them in natural
religion (dm al-fitrah) ever spoke about indivisible atoms. Naturally there-
fore, it cannot be suggested that those people ever had in mind the term
"body" and its being an assembly of atoms. No Arab could conceive of the
sun, the moon, the sky, the hills, the air, the animals, and the vegetables
being combinations of atoms. Was it not impossible for them to conceive of
an atom without any dimension? The traditionists, the mystics, and the
iurists never thought of such doctrines. 85 _
Theory of the Neccessary Cause (Mujib bi al-Dhat).-Ibn Taimiyyah
refutes the philosophical interpretation of the necessary cause. He says that
*° M. Sunnah, Vol. I, pp. 197 et sqq.; Al-Eadd, pp. 304-05.
81 M. Sunnah, Vol. I, p. 197.
" Cf. M. Sunnah, al-aful hu w-al-imkan tea kullu mumkin afil.
83 Ibid., Vol. I, p. 182.
84 Ikhlas, pp. 52 et sq.
86 Ibid.', p. 53.
814
Ibn Taimiyyah
if by "necessary cause" the philosophers mean an existence which has no
"will" and no "power," then such an existence bears no meaning, nor has it
any significance externally, much less can it be existing necessarily. Ibn Rushd
and other philosophers contradict themselves in their discussion of this prob-
lem. They postulate at the outset "a final cause" or 'ittat al- gha yah and then
other final causes to assist it in creation (lehalq) which needs volition (irddah).
And since they interpret the final cause as mere knowledge and "knowledge"
as the "knower," it becomes totally absurd and contradictory, because we
know necessarily that volition (irddah) is not identical with knowledge, nor
knowledge with the knower. With these philosophers, says ibn Taimiyyah,
heterogeneous expressions may have only one meaning; by knowledge they
mean power or volition, by attribution they mean the attributed, just as by
knowledge they mean the knower, by power they mean the powerful, by
volition the volent, and by love the lover. Granted that there is a being
without "will" and "choice," it is impossible for such a being to create this
universe, because such a necessary cause needs its own causes and they cannot
be independent. 88
Theories of Harakat al-Falak, Namus, and Mumkin. — Ibn Sina and his
followers, in trying to compromise between prophecy and philosophy, invented
the theory of harakat at-falak or movement of the sky. They maintain that
the heaven moves in obedience to the "First Cause" (al-'Illat al-Vla). To
these people the word ilah (deity) means a leader in obedience to whom the
sky moves, and their highest philosophy is to remain obedient to their leader.
The "Maqalat al-Lam," Book I, in Aristotle's Metaphysica supplies us with
such a description. 87
The philosophers believed in namus. By namus they meant government of
the world run by wise men for the attainment of good and avoidance of
oppression. Those amongst them who acknowledged "prophecy" maintained
that all religions were of the type of namus brought to the world for the
common good. Ibn Sina was one of those who held this view. In accordance
with their grades of practical philosophy, these people considered the acts
of worship (Hbadah), revealed Laws (Sharl'ah), and injunctions (ahkam) to
be moral, domestic, and civil laws respectively. Ibn Taimiyyah strongly opposes
the theories of both harakat al-falak and namus, and condemns the philosophers
for their vain attempt. He pronounces them all to be far from the truth and
stigmatizes Aristotle, their first teacher, as the most ignorant of men (ajhal
al-nds), who knew nothing of God though he was well versed in physics. 88
As for the theory of mumkin, the scholastics are of the opinion that every
possible thing (mumkin) either occupies space (mutahayyiz) or exists in
that which occupies space (qd'im bi al-mutahayyiz). Ibn Sina and his followers,
al-Shahrastani, al-Razi, etc., in affirming an existing thing different from
84 M. Sunnah, Vol. I, p. 111.
« IW&8, p. 57.
88 Ibid.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
these, postulate humanity, animality, or such other generic concepts. To ibn
Taimiyyah these generic concepts exist only in the mind. He observed that
people objected to such theories when the philosopher wanted to prove a
thing which was beyond imagination or which existed by itself imperceptibly.
He further disapproved of the theory that all existing things must be visible
to the eyes or perceptible to the senses. 89
How far is ibn Taimiyyah justified in declaring, against the philosophers,
that God is above us in the heaven ? Can "direction" be applied to God ?
According to Aristotle, upward and downward do not signify place, but the
predicament "where," just as "yesterday" and "today" do not signify time,
but the predicament "when." 90 This does not contradict the dialectics of ibn
Taimiyyah who protests against those who say that God cannot be in any
direction, because it signifies a place, and one who is in a place must have been
created (Jiddith). In his opinion, those who say that God exists in some
direction, meaning thereby that He is in some existing place within the uni-
verse, are wrong, but if by "direction" they mean some non-existing thing
above the universe ('dlam), then they are right, because above the universe
there is nothing but God. 91 Then the question arises, what is the Throne of God
and why do men raise their hands upwards at the time of prayer? Ibn Taimiyyah
says that this is because, according to the Qur'an, God is on His Throne and
the angels bear it. 92 The early philosophers erroneously believed that the
Throne meant the ninth heaven (al-falak al-tdsi'), because the astronomers
could not discover anything beyond it. They further maintained that this
ninth heaven was the cause of the movements of the other eight heavens.
The ninth heaven was also called by them spirit (al-ruh), soul (al-nafs), or the
Preserved Table (al-lauh al-mahjuz) as also active intellect (al-'aql al-fa"al)
and so on. They further compared this ninth heaven in its relation to the
other heavens with the intellect in human beings in relation to their bodies
and their activities. 93 All such theories are, in the opinion of ibn Taimiyyah,
mere conjectures without any foundation. 94 He quotes a tradition in defence
of his belief that the 'arsh is above all the heavens which are above the earth,
and is in the shape of a dome (qubbah).* 5 Granted that the 'arsh is round
and it envelops the whole creation, he further argues, it must be on top of all
existing things from all directions, and a man will naturally turn his face
upwards when asking for God's favour, and not downwards or in any other
89 Ibid., pp. 65 et sqq.
90 Aristotle, Organon, London, 1877, p. 18.
91 M. Sunnah, Vol. I, p. 250.
02 Qur'an, xl, 7.
9S MRM, Vol. IV, pp. 106-08.
94 Ibid., -p. 116.
95 On the authority of abu Dawud, narrated by Jubair ibn Mut'im. Here ibn
Taimiyyah appears to have quoted a tradition of doubtful authenticity, because
this tradition has not been accepted by all authorities. See annotation by Rashtd
Rida in MRM, Vol. IV, pp. 114 et sqq.
816
Ibn Taimiyyah
direction. If one who looks to any of the heavens in any direction other than
upward must be counted as a fool, then what is to be said of a man who
seeks God's favour but looks in any direction other than upward when upward
is nearer to him than any other direction, right, left, front, or back ? Supposing
a man intended to climb the sky or anything that is upward, he must begin
from the direction that is over his head; no sensible person will ever advise
him to rend the earth and then go downward because that is also possible
for him. Similarly, he will not run to his right or left, front or back and
then climb, though that is also equally possible for h im to do. 96
By the time ibn Taimiyyah appeared with his polemics against all
sciences and religious institutions whose origin could not be traced to early
Islam, pantheism occupied the mind of a number of reputed Muslim scholars.
Of these he mentions ibn 'Arabi (d. 638/1240), ibn Sab'In {d. 667/1269), ibn
al-Farid (d. 577/1181), al-Hallaj (executed in 309/922), and a few others.
Pantheism, according to ibn Taimiyyah, is based upon two wrong principles
which are against Islam, Christianity, and Judaism, and are contradictory to
rational and scriptural arguments. 97
Some pantheists who profess the doctrines of incarnation (hulul), unification
(itti^M), or other closely related doctrine like "Unity of Existence," maintain
that "existence" is one, though there are two degrees of it. It is (i) necessary
in the Creator and (ii) contingent in the creation. To this group of pantheists
ibn Taimiyyah assigns ibn 'Arabi, ibn Sab'in, ibn al-Farid, Tilimsani, etc.
Of these ibn Arabi distinguishes between existence (umjud) and affirmation
(thubut) saying that "substances" do exist in Non- Being ('adam) independent
of God, and that the existence of God is the existence of the substances them-
selves: the Creator needs the substances in bringing them into existence,
while the substances need Him for obtaining their existence which is the very
existence of Himself. 98 Al-Qunawi (d. 673/1274) and his followers made a
distinction between "the general" and "the particular" (al-itlaq w-al-ta'yln).
They maintained that the Necessary One is unconditionally identical with
the existing things in general. To ibn Taimiyyah these are fantastic imaginings,
because what is general in conception must be definite in individuals. 99
Ibn Sab'In and his followers hold that "the Necessary" and "the contingent"
are like "matter" and "form." Ibn Taimiyyah considers this view absurd and
self- contradictory. In his opinion, it leads to the theories of incarnation and
unity of existence. These people are the pantheists who failed to conceive of
the divine attribute called al-mvbdyanah li al-makhluqdt, different from
originated things. They knew that God exists and thought that His Being is
the same as His existence, just as a man looks to the ray of the sun and calls
96 MRM, Vol. TV, pp. 124-26.
97 Ibid., Vol. I, p. 66.
98 Ibid., p. 67.
99 Ibid.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
it the sun itself. 100 Ibn Taimiyyah quotes a saying of Shaikh Junaid Baghdadi,
"To believe in the Unity of God is to separate the quality of origination from
that of eternity," and emphasizes that there must be a distinction between
the Creator and the created; they cannot be one and the same. 101
According to ibn 'Arabi, non-existence is a positive thing even in its state
of non-being. 102 He further maintains that the existence of such things is the
existence of God Himself; they are distinguished by their essential character-
istics which persist in the void, and are united with the existence of God, who
knows them. Abu 'Uthman al-Shahham, 103 the teacher of al-Jubba'i, was the
first to speak about it in Islam. These people argued in favour of their
theory that had there been nothing in the void, there would not have been
any difference between <i) things known, and (U) things unknown. Distinction,
in their opinion, can exist only between positive things. Such a theory is
absurd according to ibn Taimiyyah. The Sunnite Mutakallimun called these
people heretics. 104 Ibn 'Arabi's theories generally revolve round this point.
Regarding the above doctrine of ibn 'Arabi, ibn Taimiyyah remarks that the
Jews, the Christians, the Magians, and even the heathens never maintained
such a belief. He, therefore, calls it a Pharaonic theory which had also been
held by the Qarmatians. 106
According to ibn Taimiyyah, ibn 'Arabi's theory reveals two things when
analysed: (i) Denial of the existence of God, and (ii) denial of His creation of
creatures. 106 Besides, according to ibn Taimiyyah, ibn 'Arabi maintains that
sainthood (wildyah) is better than prophethood (nubuwwah) and that saint-
hood will never come to an end, whereas prophecy has already been ter-
minated. 107 . .
Ibn Taimiyyah then gives various explanations of the pantheistic views ol
ibn 'Arabi, and declares them absurd. He compares ibn 'Arabi to the deaf
and dumb, and quotes the verse of the Holy Qur'an, "Deaf, dumb, blind:
therefore, they shall not retrace their steps from error." 108 Similar attacks
were made also by him against other Muslim philosophers.
We have seen ibn Taimiyyah's attitude towards theology, logic, and
philosophy. He quotes Imam Shafi'i that theologians should be beaten with
shoes and palm branches, but while replying to theological as well as philo-
sophical questions, he cannot help adopting theological and philosophical
argumentation. From his method of discussion it is evident that in
theology and philosophy he is able to put forward an argument by referring
i°« Ibid.
«i Ibid., p. 102.
1M Ibid., Vol. IV, p. 6.
103 Known as abu Ya'qub al-Shahham, see al-Farq, p. 163.
1M MRM, Vol. IV, p. 6.
105 Ibid., p. 17.
i» 6 Ibid.
»* Ibid., p. 58.
ins Qur'an, ii, 18.
818
Ibn Taimiyyah
everything to the Holy Qur'an and the Sunnah declaring the rest to be innova-
tions. As for his views about Aristotelian logic, he exhibits his power of
argumentation in an extraordinary way. He is, no doubt, an independent
thinker and is free from the fetters of blind following (taqlld) in every matter.
He may be called the precursor of the modern trend of anti-Aristotelianism.
Arba'un :
Durar :
Al-Farq:
Fawat:
mias:
IOL:
J ASP:
Lisan:
MR:
MRK:
MRM:
M. Sunnah :
M. Tafstr:
Majallah :
Mizan:
Rihlah:
R. 'Ubudiyyah:
Tabaqat:
Al-WasUah:
Al-Radd:
Naqd al-Mantiq :
Istihsdn al-Khaud :
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(With Abbreviations)
Ibn Taimiyyah, Arba'una Haditkan, Salaf iyyah Press, Cairo,
1341/1922.
Ibn Hajar al-'Asqalani, Durar al-Kaminah, Hyderabad, 1348/
1929.
'Abd al-Qahir al-Baghdadi, Kitab al-Farq bain al-Firaq, Cairo,
1328/1910.
Al-Kutubi, Fawat al-Wajayat, Bulaq, 1299/1881.
Ibn Taimiyyah, Tafsir Surat al-Ikklas, ed. Muhammad Badr
al-DIn al Halabi, Cairo, 1323/1905.
Idem, Jawab Ahl al-'Ilm w-al-Iman bi al-Tahqiq ma Akhbara
bihi al-Rasul al-Rahman min anna Qui hu w-Allah Ta'dil
Thuluth al-Qur'an, Cairo, 1325/1907.
India Office Library, London.
Journal of Asiatic Society of Pakistan, Dacca.
Ibn B!ajar al-'Asqalani, IAsan al-Mizan, Hyderabad, 1323/1905.
Ibn Taimiyyah, Majmu'at al-Rasa'U, published by Muhammad
Badr al-DIn, Cairo, 1323/1905.
Idem, Majmu'at al-Rasa'il al-Kubra, 2 Vols., Cairo, 1323/1905.
Idem, Majmu'at al-Rasa'U, ed. Muhammad Rashid Rida',
5 Parts, Cairo, 1341-49/1922-30.
Idem, Minhaj al-Sunnah, Bulaq, 1321-22/1903-04.
Idem, Majmu'at al-Tafsir, ed. 'Abd al-Samad Sharaf al-DIn,
Bombay, 1954.
Majallah al-Majma' al-'Ilm al-' Arabi, Damascus.
Al-Dhahabi, Mizan al-I'tidal fi Tarajim al-Rijal, Lucknow,
1302/1884.
Ibn Battutah, Rihlah, Paris, 1853-1914.
Ibn Taimiyyah, Risalat al- l Ubudiyyah in MS.
Al-Subki (Taj al-DIn), Tabaqat al-ShafVtyyah.
Ibn Taimiyyah, Qa'idah Jalllah fi al-Tawassul w-al-WasUah,
Cairo, 1345/1926.
Idem, Kitab al-Radd 'ala al-Mantiqiyym, ed. 'Abd al-Samad
Sharaf al-DIn al-Kutubi, Bombay, 1949.
Idem, Naqd al-Mantiq, ed. Muhammad al-Hamid al-Faqqi,
Cairo, 1370/1950.
Al-Ash'ari, Risalah fi Istihmn al-Khaud fi 'Ilm al-Kalam,
Hyderabad, 1323/1905.
Part 3. The Sufis
Chapter XLII
JALAL AL-DIN RUMI
Jalal al-Din Rumi is the greatest mystical poet of Islam. It can be said
without fear of contradiction that in the entire range of mystical literature
of the whole world there is none to equal him either in depth or in comprehen-
siveness and extent. There have been mystics both in the East and the West
whose experiences in the realm of the spirit may have equalled the spiritual
perceptions of Rumi, but their emotional or intuitional side was not matched
by an equally clear and powerful intellect. Rumi's uniqueness lies in the fact
that in him reason is wedded to a wide and deep religious experience. The
Muslim world has honoured him with the title of Maulawi-i Ma'rmwi (the
Doctor of Meaning), a religious scholar who is capable of philosophizing, of
penetrating into the meaning of physical and spiritual phenomena, and lifting
the veil of appearance to peep into the reality behind them. When he argues
he is a match for a superb dialectician of the stature of a Socrates or a Plato,
but ever conscious of the fact that logic is a poor substitute for life. He
inherited vast and variegated intellectual and spiritual wealth. He surveyed
and imbibed the rationalistic outlook of Hellenism sifting the grain from
the chaff, separating the kernel from the husk. As a Muslim he was an
heir to the spiritual wealth bequeathed to humanity by the glorious line of
great prophets from Abraham to Muhammad. We find in him the sturdy
ethics of the Israelite prophets, the dynamic view of life of Islam and the all-
pervading love of Jesus. He calls his magnum ojms the Mathruiwi, the "Shop
of Unity," wherein the diversities of life are harmonized and apparent con-
tradictions transcended by creative unities. Nothing that is human or divine is
alien to him. He expands with great force and conviction the original thesis
of Islam, of the fundamental unity of all spiritual religions despite the contra-
dictory dogmas that narrow theologies have formulated. The windows of his
soul are wide open in all directions. Although a believing and practising Muslim,
he is temperamentally a non-conformist for he realizes the secondary nature
of the form in comparison with the spirit. He is a protestant of protestants,
never tiring in the exposition of his thesis that in the realm of the spirit mere
authority without personal realization is of no avail. Faith in the sense of
believing in the unbelievable and undemonstrable realities is repudiated by
him in very strong terms. For him God is a reality to be experienced and
apprehended as more real than the objects of sense-experience; similarly, the
Jalal al-Din Rumi
relation of man to God is not a matter merely to be rationalized and moulded
into a dogma but to be realized in the depth of one's own being where the
human gets into tune with the divine and the finite is embraced by the infinite.
It is impossible to put any label on a genius like him. During his life rigid
orthodoxy was extremely suspicious of his beliefs and averse to some of his
practices which were stigmatized as innovations and aberrations. There was
sufficient material in his beliefs and utterances to convict him of heresy before
a court of inquisition. His biographers have related an incident in his life
which throws light on his catholicity. It is said that the chief of orthodox
theologians planned to discredit him by engaging him in a controversy that
would expose his heresies. At the very outset Rumi was asked to declare as
to which of the seventy- two sects he offered allegiance. Rumi gave a very
unexpected answer by saying that he believed in all of them, meaning thereby
that there is some truth in every sect which has been exaggerated and distorted
by the fanatical exuberance of the blind followers of its tenets. The theologian
was nonplussed, not knowing how to tackle a man of such an indefinite
attitude. Piqued by this disconcerting reply the theologian, in an angry
outburst, said that it signified that he was a heretic and an atheist. The reply
to this was still more disturbing for the theologian: Rumi said that he
endorsed even this judgment about him.
Let us start with a short biographical sketch of this remarkable religious
genius to note his background and the influences that moulded him. He was
born in 604/1207 during the reign of Muhammad Khwarizm Shah whose
empire extended from the Ural mountains to the Persian Gulf and from the
Euphrates to the Indus. The family had been settled there for several genera-
tions. As Balkh was in the Persian domain and Rumi wrote in the Persian
language, the modern Iranian scholars claim him as belonging to the Iranian
nation. On the other hand, the Turks call him a Turk because after bis early
youth the family settled in Anatolia which was a Turkish province but was
formerly a part of the Roman Empire, and hence the great mystic poet is
called Rumi which means Roman. The Arabs might as well claim him as an
Arab because at the summit of his genealogical table we find the great Caliph
abu Bakr, the first Successor of the Prophet. The spirit of Rumi, the universal
mystic, must be smiling at these attempts of racial appropriation. In one of his
lyrics he says that heaven is his original homeland, to which he craves to
return. In another lyric he asks his fellow Muslims as to what he should say
about himself: "As to my homeland it is not Khurasan, nor any other place
in the East or the West, and as to my creed I am neither a Jew, nor a
Zoroastrian, not even a Muslim as this term is generally understood."
In his ancestry we find great names, great not only as scholars and divines,
but also from the mundane point of view. On the maternal side he is a
grandson of the great monarch Muhammad Khwarizm Shah who had given
his daughter in marriage to the famous mystic Husain Balkhi, Rumi's
grandfather. The father of Rumi, Balm' al-Dm, was famous for his learning
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and piety. He lectured from morning till evening on religious sciences as well as
on mystical lore, and delivered sermons on Mondays and Fridays to crowded
audiences. Commoners as well as scholars, aristocrats, and royalty gathered
to hear him. The monarch held Imam Fakhr al-Din Razi, the commentator of
the Qur'an and one of the great dialecticians, in great esteem and sometimes
brought him along to hear Baha' al-Din. Razi was reputed to be imbued with
Greek dialectics, and attempted to prove religious truths by logic. Seeing Razi
in the audience Baha' al-Din would pour his wrath on these attempts at the
Hellenization of Islam, but the presence of the monarch and the prestige of
the preacher prevented him from defending himself. Rumi as a young boy
must have heard these denunciations from the lips of his learned father. In
the Mathnawi, when Rumi takes up the cudgel on behalf of personal experience
against mere logic-chopping, he points to Razi as a representative of a class
of people who want to enter the realm of religious truth, walking on the wooden
legs of mere argumentation:
"If dialectics alone could reveal the secrets of the spirit, Razi would have
certainly reached them, but the feet of the dialectician are wooden and
the wooden feet are most shaky."
It is said that Razi got so jealous of the popularity and prestige of Baha' al-Din
that he poisoned the mind of the monarch against him by insinuating that,
if the influence of this preacher were allowed to develop indefinitely, he would
wield a power that would surpass the power of the sovereign. Autocratic rulers
in Christendom as well as in Muslim kingdoms have often shown fearful
jealousy of religious leaders, be they popes or priests. There is no wonder
that Khwarizm Shah became apprehensive of the growing influence and
prestige of Baha,' al-Din and his fears were fanned by the latter's rivals in the
religious field. It is quite possible that Baha' al-Din left Balkh along with his
whole family to forestall an adverse action against him. But there is also
another version about his motive to migrate. Shortly after he left Balkh the
Tartar invasion overwhelmed the domains of Khwarizm Shah. It may be that
Baha' al-Din had seen that it was imminent and so he decided to move away
into a safer region. The family moved first to Nishapur and then to Baghdad
where Baha' al-Din's stay was prolonged because Baghdad was a cultural
centre of the Muslim world and attracted scholars from distant Muslim lands.
A delegation from the Sultan of Rum, 'Ala al-Din Kaiqubad, happened to
visit Baghdad during this period; its members were greatly impressed by
Baha' al-Din's lectures and sermons. On their return to Anatolia they spoke
to the Sultan about the 'spiritual eminence of Baha' al-Din, and the Sultan
persuaded him to come over to his realm. Baha' al-Din travelled from Baghdad
to the Hijaz and passing through Syria he stayed for about a year in the
town of Aque and then stopped for seven years in Laranda in Zinjan. Here,
in 662/1263, his illustrious son Rumi, now mature in mind and years, was
married. It was here that Rumi's son Sultan Walad was born a year later.
Jalftl al-Din Rumi
The Sultan invited the family to settle down in Quniyah, capital of his
kingdom. The Sultan with his retinue received him at some distance from
the town and reaching the city wall he got down from his horse to escort
the great divine on foot. Baha' al-Din's family was lodged in a palatial house
and the Sultan would visit him very often.
We see form this family background that Rumi grew up in an atmosphere
of religious learning in which religious problems were discussed and contro-
versies entered into with great enthusiasm. Rumi must have learnt much from
his father and the great scholars who were devoted to him. The most eminent
among them was Burhan al-Din Muhaqqiq whose title denotes that he carried
on independent research (tahqlq). Rumi's father entrusted the education of
his promising son to this teacher who inculcated in his pupil the habit
of independent thinking. Rumi's education continued after the death of
his father and we find him at the age of twenty-five travelling in search
of knowledge to great centres of learning like Damascus and Halab (Aleppo).
Rumi lived for some time in the hostel of Helariyyah College. There were very
eminent teachers on the staff of this College, one of whom was Kamal al-Din
ibn 'Adim Halabi, who wrote a history of Halab, a fragment of which has
been published in Europe. Rumi's education covered the whole curriculum:
the Qur'anic commentary, Hadith, jurisprudence, and Arabic language and
literature. His Mathnawi bears ample evidence of this vast learning. It
is on account of this intellectual and academic training that his mysticism
is not merely emotional. At every step we find him intellectualizing his supra-
rational spiritual experiences. He spent seven years in the colleges of Damascus
and we find him still engaged in academic pursuits even at the age of forty.
The Holy Prophet Muhammad had started his mission at that age. In Plato's
Republic Socrates proposed a similarly long process of education for those who
would be philosophic rulers of his ideal republic.
Although it is stated in the Manaqib al-'Arifin that at the time of the death of
Rumi's father his teacher and tutor Burhan al-Din certified his pupil's thorough
attainment in prevalent sciences and then launched him on a long course of
mystical practices which continued for nine years, yet we do not find any
fruits of these spiritual experiences in the life of Rumi before his encounter
with the mystical and mysterious Shams of Tabriz. Rumi now engaged him-
self in teaching theology and giving sermons as the learned religious teachers
of his time usually did. His verdict or fatwa was sought and quoted about
religious questions on which he was held to be an authority. He avoided music
as the rigid puritanical orthodoxy of his time did. There is no doubt that his
meeting with Shams was a turning point in his life. As to what happened
when Shams and Rumi met for the first time, there exist a number of legends
that are inconsistent. According to one version, Rumi, surrounded by books
and pupils, was engaged in teaching when Shams suddenly dropped in
and asked him, "What are these books about ?" Taking him to be a man
without learning Rumi replied that the questioner could not know what they
A History of Muslim Philosophy
contained. At this the heap of books burst into flames. Rumi in great
consternation asked him the meaning of this miraculous phenomenon. At this
Shams said, "This is what you cannot understand." Another version of this
legend is that Shams threw the books in a cistern of water and when Rumi
was enraged at this Shams brought them out without the water having
touched them; they were as dry as before. Shibli, the eminent modern
writer of a book on Rumi, is evidently right in his judgment that these
legends are not based on facts because Sipah Salar, who spent forty
years in intimate contact with Rumi, relates his meeting with Sbams in a
simple story unadorned by any legend. If anything unusual had happened,
surely this friend and devotee would not have missed mentioning it. He says
that Shams was the son of 'Ala' al-Din and was a descendant of Kaya Buzurg,
an Imam of the Isma'Ili sect before dissociating himself from it. Shams received
his education in Tabriz and then became a disciple of Baba Kamal al-Din
Jumdi, who introduced him to mystic way of life. He travelled from place to
place living in caravanserais, weaving girdles and selling them for bread. He
was staying in a serai of Quniyah when Rumi went to see him. The impression
of this mystic on Rumi's mind was deep and lasting. Sipah Salar says that
the two were closeted together for six months in Salah al-Din Zarkub's room,
which none but Zarkub was allowed to enter. Now Rumi left off teaching and
preaching and spent days and nights only in the company of Shams. It was
rumoured that a magician had bewitched the great divine. Rumi's sons and
disciples turned against Shams whom they considered to be a charlatan and
a sorcerer. Under these circumstances Shams left Quniyah suddenly, leaving
no clue about his whereabouts. After a long time Shams wrote to Rumi from
Damascus. This letter kindled the flame in Rumi's mind again. In the mean-
time his disciples whose resentment had driven away Shams had repented
of their conduct. Rumi's son Sultan Walad in his Mathnawi has mentioned
this incident in detail because he was deputed by his father to go to Damascus
accompanied by some other disciples to persuade Shams to return to Quniyah.
The epistle of Rumi written in verse is recorded in the Mathnawi of Sultan
Walad. This letter shows how deeply Rumi had felt the pangs of separation
from his spiritual guide and in what great esteem he held him. Shams accom-
panied this delegation and returned to Quniyah where he was received with
great honour by Rumi and his disciples. It appears that Shams now meant
to stay on, having allayed the suspicions of Rumi's disciples by marrying a
maid of Rumi's house whose name was Kimiya. A residential tent was pitched
for the wedded couple in front of the family residence of Rumi. Something
happened again which turned Rumi's son 'Ala' al-Din Chalpi against Shams
and others joined him with the result that Shams disappeared now for good.
Rumi's reliable biographer Sipah Salar says only this much that Shams left
Quniyah again in indignation and although Rumi sent people to search for
him in various places no one could find him. But other biographers of Rumi
are in full accord about the conviction that Shams was assassinated by some
Jalal al-Din Rumi
of Rumi's disciples, and the author of Nafahdt al-Uns mentions the name of
Rumi's son, 'Ala' al-Din, as his murderer. The assassination or disappearance
of Shams took place in about 645/1247.
It is difficult to assess the mind and character of a man who appeared from
nowhere and disappeared without leaving a trace after having influenced so
deeply one of the greatest religious geniuses of all times. Could a man of
Rumi's mental calibre be the subject of an abiding delusion created by a
master hypnotist ? The world has valued Rumi as a man of deep spiritual
apprehension ; a man whose religious life was rooted in a personal experience
which could stand the test of reason. We find him acknowledge his debt to
Shams in a thousand soul-stirring lyrics. Shams found Rumi an academic
theologian and conventional preacher and converted him into an ecstatic mystic
in deep personal contact with the ineffable verities of life. The prosaic Rumi
was overnight turned into an ecstatic lyricist, who now found poetry and
music better than philosophy and theology as vehicles for the expression of
truth. Rumi identified himself so completely with Shams that the voluminous
collection of his mystical lyrics is called Biwan-i Shams-i Tabriz. In hundreds
of lyrics the inspiration received from this mysterious spiritual guide is acknow-
ledged with vibrating gratitude. The realm of mystical experience is a doubly
sealed mystery to the uninitiated, but he has to accept the testimony of
Rumi about it, however personal and subjective it may be, when he says
with unshakable conviction that in Zarkub's shop, where the guide and
the disciple were closeted together in mysterious intimacy, he found a spiritual
treasure of indescribable value and ineffable beauty, both of form and meaning.
We can say only this much that Shams must have been a man of extra-
ordinary psychical power capable of influencing the master mind of his age,
whose magnum opus of intellectualized and versified religious experience
created a monument of mystical poetry in which eternal love and cosmic
reason seem to have achieved perfect accord.
Rumi had no intention of either founding a new sect or initiating a new
movement; his devotees and disciples, however, did form a distinctive group
after his death, but they developed and perpetuated only some external ob-
servances and rituals, and degenerated into a community of whirling dervishes.
A felt- cap without a seam — the leaders also wrapping a turban round it and
wearing voluminous trousers of many folds — became the standard livery of
this group which was incapable of comprehending either the depth of Rumi's
thought or the spirit of his religious experience. Rumi who was bitterly averse
to imitation and blind conformity in religious fife became a victim, by irony of
fate, of what he had persistently fought against. With Rumi ecstatic dance
accompanied by spontaneously gushing forth lyrics was an involuntary expres-
sion of a deeply stirred soul. The imitators of externals adopted it as a regular
practice of inducing religious emotion, unconsciously believing, like William
James, that the voluntary adoption of the physical expression of an emotion
tends to create the emotion itself. The ecstasy-seeking group sits in a circle,
825
A History of Muslim Philosophy
while one of them stands up to dance with one hand on the breast and the
other arm spreading out. In the dance there is no forward or backward move-
ment but that of whirling around with increasing tempo. When accompanied
by music, only flutes and drums are used. There is a trying process of under-
going a discipline of service to others before a candidate for membership could
qualify for it. It starts not with the service of men but the service of animals
for forty days, obviously with the idea that if a man can serve animals dutifully
with love and consideration he would serve his fellow beings still better. After
this he sweeps the floors of the lodgings of poor devotees. It is followed by
other terms of service of forty days each of drawing water and carrying fuel
and other general domestic chores. This is considered to be a cure for man's
love of power and privilege of class and caste. At the end he is given a bath
to symbolize riddance of lower passions. He takes a vow of total abstinence
from all forbidden acts and is allowed to wear the garb of the sect.
B
BELIEFS AND PHILOSOPHY
Riimi as a philosopher of religion stands shoulders above all those Muslim
thinkers who are called fyukama' in the history of Muslim thought. He compiled
no systematic treatise either on philosophy or theology and made no sustained
attempt to build a system of either speculative or mystical metaphysics. One
cannot put him in the category of philosophers like al-Farabi, ibn Sina
(Avicenna), ibn Rushd (Averroes), and even al-Ghazali. He did not hitch his
wagon to these stars with the exception of al-GhazaJi. who attempted a monu-
mental synthesis of orthodox Muslim theology and mysticism attempting to
bridge the gulf between the two. He is the heir to the ethical monotheism of
the Israelite prophets which culminated in the dispensation of Islam, but by the
time this heritage reached him it had already been supplemented by Hellenistic
thought. But he deepens and broadens all that he inherits. He belongs to no
school or sect. He picks up what he considers to be true and discards whatever
he thinks to be false, however time-honoured and orthodox the view or dogma
may be. A patient study of his Mathnam reveals him not as a mediocre eclectic
but a man with a definite view of the nature of existence. He has a deep-
rooted feeling about the basic unity of reality and appearance. For a man
like him every thesis and antithesis is transcended by a higher synthesis
wherein contradictions are resolved in the ever-advancing movement of life.
He talks of mere dialecticians with disdain but does not shun dialectics to
sustain a thesis. You may consider him a free-lance both in philosophy and
religion, but his freedom is informed with a basic attitude that never wavers
and perpetually returns to itself after numerous digressions and deviations.
While dealing with a genius like Rumi one is always conscious of a feeling of
injustice towards him. The best that he has uttered vibrates with life, while
Jalal al-Dln Rumi
an intellectual analysis in relation to life itself is, in the words of Goethe, like
grey autumn leaves as compared with the sapful green tree which has dropped
them. But this drawback is inherent in all intellectual analyses and theories
and one has regretfully to remain contented with it. We will make an attempt
to give a brief summary of his beliefs, outlook, and metaphysics under a few
THE NATURE OF EXISTENCE AND EVOLUTION
The ground of all existence is spiritual. It is not easy to define the meaning of
the term "spiritual," especially in the world- view of Rumi. For him the ground
of being is akin to what we feel in ourselves as spirit or ego. Infinite number
of egos emerging out of the Cosmic Ego constitute the totality of existence.
In this view even matter is spiritual. The thinker nearest to Rumi in this
respect is the German philosopher Leibniz, who centuries after Riimi conceived
of existence as an infinity of egos at different levels of consciousness. As in
the metaphysics of Leibniz, Riimi believed God to be a universal cosmic
Monad. There is nothing like lifeless matter; matter is also alive though at a
lower gradation of being. "Earth and water, fire and air are alive in the view
of God, though they appear to be dead to us."
In all speculative philosophy, the starting point, the point of departure, is
an undemonstrable postulate. So is the case with the thought of Rumi.
Assuming existence to be spiritual in the process of creation, he starts with
a belief in devolution. There is no satisfactory explanation of why the infinite,
self-existent, self-sufficient Spirit should start dropping egos to the lowest
level of sentience and consciousness.
Judaism, Christianity, and Islam have inculcated a belief in creation ex
nihilo by a voluntary act of the Creator at a particular moment of time. In
Rumi's view there is no creation in time because time itself is created and is
a category of phenomenal consciousness which views events in serial time,
and mystic consciousness diving into the spiritual ground of being apprehends
reality as non-spatial and non-temporal. We see here the Neo-Platonic influ-
ence replacing the orthodox Islamic concept of creation in time. Instead of
creation in time, we have eternal emergence of egos. Rumi has repeated in
many places his view of the eternity of spirits. "I existed when there were
neither names nor the things that are named."
We see him moving only one step with Plotinus in conceding that there is
emanation instead of creation in time, and then he suddenly parts company
with him. Starting with initial unexplainable devolution he becomes a creative
evolutionist. All beings have emerged from God by a kind of overflow of the
divine spirit, but every being or ego is impelled irresistibly by an urge to
return to its origin. This urge which Riimi calls love becomes the evolutionary
principle of all existence. Existence, viewed phenomenally, is graded, the
827
A History of Muslim Philosophy
egos in one grade being superior or inferior in self-realization. The essence
of all egos or monads is spiritual which may be called divine because they
have all emerged from the self-same divine principle. The doctrine of the Fall
of Adam is reinterpreted in Ruml's metaphysics. The original state from
which the ego fell was not the traditional paradise of gardens and streams
but the unitary ground of divinity. The Fall is concerned not only with man
or the disobedience of Adam and Eve, but is a universal cosmic phenomenon.
One might say metaphorically that monads in the realm of matter and vegetable
and animal kingdoms are all fallen angels striving to return to their original
divine ground. The principle that everything has a natural tendency to return
to its origin, holds good in all spheres and applies to every existent. Previous
to Rumi we find among Greek thinkers guesses about the biological evolution
of birds and beasts and man having been gradually differentiated and developed
from fish due to environmental changes and the needs of adaptation, but this
speculation was never developed any farther either by materialistic thinkers
like Democritus or idealists and realists like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle.
We find a doctrine of graded existence and a theory of development in Aris-
totle's concepts of form and matter and entelechies. Inorganic matter is
organized into different species of plants because every plant realizes the
idea of its species. Every realized form serves as matter for the embodiment
of a still higher entelechy until we reach God who is pure idea or self- thinking
thought unconcerned with the particularities of phenomenal existence and
unrelated to creatures contaminated with matter. Matter for Aristotle is a
negative end-concept without a shadow of reality because all reality belongs
to ideas, and matter as such is bereft of any idea. Aristotle is not a monadologist
like Rumi and Leibniz and for him the human ego also has a transitory
phenomenal existence ; what is real in it belongs to universal reason and what-
ever is personal or individual has no abiding value or reality. After Aristotle
the doctrine of Emanation and Return is found in Plotinus. In his view also
there is a gradation in existence which is a result of more or less distance
from the original ineffable One who is devoid of all qualities like the Nirguna
Brahman, the Absolute of Advaita Veddnta. The human souls, according to
Plotinus, can rise again to their original ground by discarding material and
biological urges. This leads logically to a negativistic, quietistic, and ascetic
view of life of which we find no trace in Rumi because of the Islamic ethics
of integration and the eternal value of the individual. For Aristotle the scheme
of graded existence was eternally fixed and there was no idea of the evolution
of species. In Plotinus, too, there is more of eternally graded devolutionary
states of existences than an eternal urge to develop into higher and higher
states which is so clearly depicted in the metaphysics of Rumi. Rumi touches
Plotinus and Aristotle only tangentially and then develops a thesis of his
own, not found before him in any speculative or religious metaphysics except
that of the Ikhwan al-Safa and ibn Miskawaih. In the whole history of philo-
sophy he is one of the outstanding evolutionary thinkers. He is not a mechanical
828
Jalul al-Din Rumi
or biological evolutionist like Darwin and Spencer. Bergson's creative evolution
comes nearest to Rumi. For Bergson, too, life is creative and evolutionary;
however, he believes this creative evolutionary process to be without any goal.
But how could one say that life evolves unless there in an implicit idea of
a goal towards which it moves ? For Rumi God is the ground as well as the goal
of all existence, and life everywhere is a goal-seeking activity. Bergson de-
veloped no concept of the self, nor is evolution for him a process of self-
realization. Rumi tells us why life is creative and evolutionary and defines
for us the nature of the creative urge. It was only in the last decade of his
life that Bergson in his book The Tim Sources of Morality and Religion
identified the elan vital with love and moved from philosophy to religion by
accepting the prophets and the saints as individuals endowed with intuition
and saturated with love which is the creative urge of evolutionary life.
Rumi has presented his view in a language which conforms partially even
with the view of materialistic and biological evolutionists. Like them he says
that fife has evolved from matter, but for him matter was from the outset
essentially and potentially spiritual. This removes the insoluble problem of
lifeless and goalless matter evolving out of itself a germ of life which even
in the lowest and initial stage is adaptive and goal-seeking. The Odyssey and
voyage of the ego's self -discovery and its gradual unfoldment are given in
Books III and IV of the Matknawi with great definiteness. "For several
epochs I was flying about in space like atoms of dust without a will, after
which I entered the inorganic realm of matter. Crossing over to the vegetable
kingdom I lost all memory of my struggle on the material plane. From there
I stepped into the animal kingdom, forgetting all my life as a plant, feeling
only an instinctive and unconscious urge towards the growth of plants and
flowers, particularly during the springtime as suckling babies feel towards
the mother that gave them birth. Rising in the scale of animality I became a
man pulled up by the creative urge of the Creator whom one knows. I continued
advancing from realm to realm developing my reason and strengthening the
organism. There was ground for ever getting above the previous types of
reason. Even my present rationality is not a culmination of mental evolution.
This too has to be transcended, because it is still contaminated with self-
seeking, egoistic biological urges. A thousand other types of reason and con-
sciousness shall emerge during the further course of my ascent; a wonder of
wonders ! "
The same course is traced in Book III of the Mathnawi hinting at higher
stages till the ego reaches back the divinity from which it had emanated, a
state which cannot be grasped by our present rationality nor could imagina-
tion visualize it. No category of reason or phenomenal existence applies to
this state: it is ultra-existential. We must note here that it is not an impersonal
existence which goes on moving from phase to phase but selves or egos from
the very start which are perpetually engaged in self-realization. Orthodox
Islam like Christianity believes in the creation of the universe in time. The
A History of Muslim Philosophy
souls are believed to be created with the birth of the individuals though after
that they are destined to be immortal remaining eternally either in heaven
or hell. But, according to Rumi, the category of time does not apply to the
realm of the spirit, so the question of the temporal creation of egos is irrele-
vant. For Rumi as for al-Ghazali time and space are categories of phenomenal
consciousness only. He says about serial time, "You think in terms of the past
and the future; when you get rid of this mode of consciousness, the problem
will be solved." There is also a hint in the verses that follow that our concept
of time is interlinked with space, an idea which has been mathematically and
scientifically developed in modern times by Einstein. Rumi says that in the
realm of divine light, which is non-spatial, serial time, divisible into past,
present, and future, does not exist. Past and future are relative to the indi-
vidual self. About space there are numerous verses in the Mathnawi and Rumi
repeatedly points to his conviction, which may either be the result of spiritual
experience or an epistemological thesis, that in the realm of the spirit the
category of space does not hold and has no relevance. The Qur'anic verse
about divine light which definitely states that it is non-spatial, la sharqiyyah
wa la ghnrMyyah, supports this view, and Rumi's intellect and experience
must have been strengthened by this scriptural corroboration. As the human
spirit too is basically divine, as corroborated by the Qur'an in which it is
said that God breathed His own spirit into Adam, man also, diving into his
own real self, can realize the non-spatial nature not only of his own reality but
also of all existence viewed as noumena and not as phenomena. He exhorts
man to realize this basic fact both about himself and the universe. "You
live in space but your reality is non-spatial; close this shop situated in space
and open a shop on the other side to which your real non-spatial spirit belongs.
The ground of this spatial universe is non-spatial; space is a phenomenal
creation of that which in itself is not space." Rumi develops this thesis still
further. He says that space is the basis of division and multiplicity, in which
the basic unity of the cosmic spirit is infinitely pulverized and atomized.
Human egos are also basically one. It is only material frames in which the
selves at the biological level create the illusion of diversity. Here too Rumi
gets support from the Qur'anic teaching that there is a fundamental unity
in the multiplicity of human egos. "It is He who created you of one spirit." 1
Rumi uses similes to make his meaning clear. He says that sunlight entering
houses through many windows is split up by spatial barriers but remains
essentially the same. In another place he says that lamps lightening a hall
may be many but the fight that emanates from them and envelops all of them
negates the illusion of separateness. It is a common trait of Rumi that he
first uses logical and philosophical arguments and then invariably tries to
enlighten the mind of the reader by similes and analogies, but at the end
finding the intellect incurably bound by spatial visualization and fettered by
Jalal al-Din Rumi
the logic of identity and contradiction, refers invariably to ultra-rational
spiritual experience which realizes reality as unity and conceives diversity
as mere phenomenal appearance. Talking of a group of divinized souls, he
says that they feel themselves as the waves of the self-same sea whose diversity
is created by wind. He relates a spiritual experience in which the spirit transcends
our spatially interlinked serial time and enters a dimension of Being wherein
the mutually exclusive diversity of psychological processes is negated and a
man's causal t h i n ki n g, with the problems that it creates and attempts to
solve, exists no more. As it is a spaceless reality that manifests itself into
extended and divisible spaces, creating the illusion of separated things and
events, so it is a timeless spirit that creates the categories of serial time with
the illusory division of past, present, and future. It is possible for the human
spirit to enter this non-dimensional dimension of consciousness and reality.
Such an experience does not give one knowledge in the ordinary sense ; it is
a consciousness of wonder.
LOVE
As we have remarked already, two lines of intellectual and moral and spirit-
ual development running their course independently for more than a millen-
nium had converged in Hellenized Christianity, of which the first unmistakable
evidence is the Gospel of John which identified Jesus with Logos. But after this
amalgamation the distinctive features of the message of Jesus were not lost and
remained recognizably different. Jesus identified God with love, while Hellenism
had made reason the ground of reality. Islam too was an heir to Israelite
prophetic outlook and grappled with the Hellenistic thought incorporating
some of its elements and repudiating others which were antagnostic to the
fundamentals of its ideology. Islam attempted a synthesis of reason, love,
and law, and an integration of the higher and the lower aspects, not sacrificing
the lower and annihilating it altogether but transmuting the lower into the
higher. It means surrender to the will of God which is not a passive attitude
of submission but a continued volitional effort to attune oneself to eternal
realities of which the focus is God. Whatever Islam took over as its heritage,
it transformed it in the process of synthesis and assimilation, until the
product became qualitatively different. In the opening chapter of the Qur'an
we find God neither as the self-thinking thought of Aristotle nor the top point
of the Platonic pyramid of ideas but a conscious and eternally creative will.
The basic attributes of God given in this surah are: (1) Eabb al-'alamln (the
Nourisher of all realms and beings), (2) Rahman and Rahlm (Creative Love
and Forgiving Love), and (3) Malik Yaum al-Din (the Master of the Day of
Judgment). We see here that love is prior to law and justice and hence
is more basic to the nature of God, who is the Ultimate Reality. The Western
critics of Islam are wont to take original Islam as concerned more with
unconditional obedience to the revealed will of God than with an attitude
831
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of love towards Him. They forget that this obedience is to be rendered to
a being who is essentially a lover; as Rahman, He creates out of love, as
Babb He sustains out of love, and as Rahim He forgives out of love. It is
a misrepresentation of Islam to assert that the concept of love is foreign to
it and was adopted from Christianity and philosophies of Sufis and mystical
metaphysicians. The fact is that what mystics and thinkers like Rumi
did was to elaborate the meaning of love, not only making it basic to
religious and ethical life but giving it a cosmic significance as a creative,
ameliorative, and evolutionary urge in all creatures and at all strata of
existence. It is stated in the Qur'an that God has enjoined love (rahmah)
on Himself 2 and that it encompasses everything. 3 In another verse the extent
of paradise is given as the extent of the heavens and the earth, which means
entire existence. The Prophet was asked by a non-Muslim where hell would
be located if paradise covered all existence. He said, "Where is the night
when the day dawns ?" meaning thereby that when the love of God becomes
manifest it shall be revealed as covering entire existence.
The cosmic significance of love could be derived from the Qur'anic teaching
but it required acquaintance with other ideologies to help Muslim thought in its
elaboration. So far as theories and speculations are concerned, we can discover
distinctively pre-Islamic concepts in Rumi. Here a passage may be quoted
from Khalifah Abdul Hakim's book, The Metaphysics of Rumi : "So far as the
theories of love are concerned, a part of his arguments and views can be directly
traced back to Plato who has had a decisive influence on all mysticism, both
Islamic and Christian, by bis conception of a supersensuous Reality, as well
as Eros [love] as a cosmical power. Rumi's Love as an experience was not a
product of any theory; as something intimately personal, it cannot be a
subject of criticism. But the conceptual apparatus that he employs to philo-
sophise about love requires to be understood in its historical connections. The
contents of [Plato's two Dialogues] Phaedrus and Symposium . . . were
not unknown to the thinkers of Islam. Ibn Sina's Fragment on Love* is
mostly a reproduction of the dialogue in [Plato's] Symposium. . . . Love as
the movement towards Beauty which being identical with Goodness and Truth
represents Perfection and the Highest Idea, and Love, as the inherent desire
of the individual for immortality ; . . . given by Avicenna is a simple repetition
of the Platonic theory of Love. The processes of Assimilation, Growth, [and]
Reproduction are so many manifestations of Love. All things are moving
towards Eternal Beauty and the worth of a thing is proportionate to its
realisation [or assimilation] of that beauty." 5
8 Ibid., vi, 12, 54.
* Ibid., vii, 156.
* This fragment on love forms part of his collected works preserved in the
British Museum Library and has been edited by N. A. F. Mehren (Leiden, 1894).
5 Khalifah Abdul Hakim, The Metaphysics of Rumi, Institute of Islamic Culture,
Lahore, 1959, pp. 44-45.
832
Jalal al-Din Rumi
Newton explained the movement of heavenly bodies by physical gravitational
pull and Kant promulgated the nebular hypothesis to explain the origin of
heavenly bodies out of incandescent vapour. Hegel explained the ever-
progressing dynamism of Nature and Mind as the dialectical unfolding in time
of the Eternal Absolute. Darwin presented a biological view of the creation
of higher species by the blind urges of the struggle for existence and life's
adaptation with the environment. Rumi's evolutionary concept comprehends
all these partial and fragmentary theories, taking them up in a grand synthesis.
Like Hegel he is a believer in the Eternal Absolute, but to explain the dynamism
of all life and history he resorts to cosmic love instead of the dialectic of
thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. Similarly, Rumi has an intuition of the gravi-
tational pull of atoms and masses of matter but, instead of explaining it by
mechanical dynamics, he resorts to love as the fundamental urge which creates
attractions and affinities. "All atoms in the cosmos are attracted to one
another like lovers, everyone is drawn towards its mate by the magnetic
pull of love. Heavenly bodies draw the earth towards them in a welcoming
embrace. It is on account of this cosmic pull of love that earth remains suspended
in space like a lamp, the forces from all directions pulling it by equilibrated
attraction not allowing it to fly away or drop down in space, as if the stellar
dome of heaven were a magnetic dome inside which a piece of iron is suspended
without visible cords." According to Rumi, the same force that creates heavenly
bodies out of nebulae resulting in stars and planets and systems proceeds
further and generates life because love by its essence is creative. As atoms
by their affinities conglomerate in molecules so in a further evolutionary
urge they emerge as life cells which first appear in vegetation and then advance
towards animality. Hegel said that creation proceeds through a synthesis of
the opposites, but Rumi says that these apparent opposites were already akin
by the affinity of love. Love originates in God and moves towards God who
is essentially a creator : therefore, love as it advances from phase to phase in
the upward movement of creation brings into being new forms of existence
at every step.
We have already stated that Rumi is a monadologist and when he talks
of atoms and their mutual attractions he is really talking of egos that are in
the process of realizing their divinely -rooted self-consciousness. It is this urge
for self-realization that makes the egos act as they do. As their source is God,
so their goal is also God, and the process of moving towards this goal creates
new perfections at every stage. Everywhere there is life and life is essentially
a goal-seeking activity. The lower merges into the higher; it is not a process
of progressive annihilation but assimilation. Rumi says that the heavenly
movements are not blindly mechanical but are waves in an infinite ocean of
love. If cosmic love were not there, all existence would get frozen and shrink
into nothingness. The inorganic would refuse to merge and emerge into vegeta-
tion and vegetation would not be lifted up into animal life nor would life
ascend towards the mind and spirit. The egos like infinite swarms of
833
A History of Muslim Philosophy
locusts are flying towards the harvest of life. Without love, nothing would
move.
The religion of a mystic philosopher like Rumi is a universal religion which
could not be enclosed within any orthodox or dogmatic boundaries. His religion
is not the creed of any one particular religious community but being the
religion of the universe is a universal religion. It is the religion of glowing
stars, of flowing streams, and of growing trees. Whose belief, intuition, and
practice accord with this outlook, he has attained the truth. Religion if it
is genuine is not a blind faith about the understandable unknown; it is an
ever-present reality perceived and lived. It is the alchemy of life which through
the magic of love transforms the lower into the higher. We see in ourselves
that bread is transubstantiated into life and mind. Could any narrow scientific
intellect explain this miraculous transmutation 1 In the Aristotelian logic of
identity everything remains what it is, and in mechanistic materialism there
is no way of explaining the goal-seeking tendency of life from non-purposive
aimless atoms. Life has an infinite assimilative power; there is nothing that
could remain eternally foreign to it. As fire burns even a dross and converts
it into a pure flame, so every happening in life is capable of being converted
into light and life.
The universe, according to Rumi, is a realm of love. In comparison with
love, law and reason are secondary phenomena. It is love that creates to
fulfil itself and reason steps in later to look at it retrospectively, discovering
laws and uniformities to seek the threads of unity in the diversities of manifested
life. Language was not created by any preconceived grammar, nor do the
flowers blossom by any conscious planning or according to the laws of botany
or aesthetics. Rational thinking follows creation but does not precede it,
Rationalization, being a secondary phenomenon, is not by itself a creative
force. As Hegel has said, philosophy always comes too late only to contemplate
retrospectively what the dynamism of history has already created and com-
pleted. Cosmic love transcends all creeds and all philosophies and so the religion
of love could never be completely identified with any orthodoxy, dogmatism, or
speculative theory. Rumi says that there is no contradiction between universal
love and universal reason, but when the human intellect narrows itself, it
begins to take a part for a whole, making the mistake of identifying a frag-
mentary phenomenon with the whole of reality. Human intellect, divorced
from universal reason, remains at the biological and utilitarian level, and
language which is the outward garb of the intellect possesses no vocabulary
for the description of the intuition of cosmic love. Human consciousness
remains generally at the biological level and its perceptions, affections, and
conations are governed directly or indirectly by biological needs. This biological
instrument Rumi calls khirad or particular reason ('aql-i juzwi) to distinguish
it from universal reason, which is an ally of the intuition of fife. The particular
reason which exultingly calls itself scientific reason, capable of explaining all
reality and solving the riddle of the universe, proves to be utterly useless
Jala! al-Dln Rumi
when faced with the intuition of life and love, and, instead of gracefully accept-
ing its inadequacy, begins foolishly to deny the reality that it cannot com-
prehend.
The deep impress of Rumi which has continued to develop through the
centuries in modern times produced a disciple of the intellectual calibre and
poetic genius of Iqbal. The reasons for this influence may be briefly summed
up as follows. Here was a man who, like the great prophets and saints, did not
accept religious faith at second hand; for him it was a personal experience
more convincing than either logical argument or sense-perception. But religious
experience, if it rests in its subjectivity, cannot be communicated; it cannot
induce conviction in others who do not have it. Rumi deplores the inadequacy
of human speech to convey it and also points to the limitations of sense-
experience as well as inductive or deductive reasoning of what he calls the
particular intellect which deals with reality piecemeal. But side by side with
his ultra-sensuous and ultra -rational mystic experience of the all-enveloping
spirit in which every ego lives and moves and has its being, he presents him-
self to us as an acute logician and a skilled metaphysician. When you add his
lyrical fervour and poetic genius to his remarkable capacities, he begins to
tower above all those who are either mere mystics or mere philosophers or
mere poets. One finds in him anticipations of Kant who tried to prove pheno-
menality or subjectivity of time, space, and causality ; anticipations of Bergson
in his criticism of the intellect and in his conception of elan vital and creative
evolution ; and anticipations of Nietzsche in his conviction that present human-
ity must be superseded in a further advance towards new dimensions of
being. He is an idealist and spiritualist of the highest order. He is fundamentally
an evolutionary thinker who conceived of existence not in static but dynamic
terms. The unconscious urge to rise to higher levels is implicit in all existence ;
the inorganic is always ready for being assimilated by the organic; in every
entity there is an upward surge from within and a pull from above. The
inertia of matter on which Newton based his physics and astronomy is declared
to be an illusion, the reality of which is infinite motion or restlessness of what
Democritus and the thirteenth/nineteenth-century physicists call atoms but
Rumi calls egos. Rumi re-establishes the reality of the world and the dignity
of all life, particularly of human life which has become self-conscious and
conscious of its divine origin and goal. All movement is from God unto God.
Rumi performs the admirable task of ridding mysticism of quietism and
irrationalism. He establishes with all the force of his genius the reality of free-
will which is vouchsafed to man to identify itself freely with the cosmic will.
He has brought out the essence of universal religion as creative love. He
preaches the infinite potentialities of life because all egos have their origin
in the Infinite Self and are restless and nostalgic in order to realize their
infinity. Many creeds and philosophies had declared life to be an illusion, but
Rumi declares life at all grades to be an Eternal Reality; it is not life but
death which is an illusion. The purpose of life is more life, higher and better.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Nietzsche criticizes bitterly all creeds that say "No" to life and says that
there are only two kinds of creeds: those that say "Yes" to life and those
that say "No" to it. Rumi's is a life-embracing creed. Although one of the
greatest mystics of all time, he was not a body-torturing and self-annihilating
mystic. In a verse he talks of great souls as great hunters of life trying to
capture and assimilate the spirituality of angels, saints, and prophets, finally
aiming at capturing the cosmic spirit itself for perpetual and eternal enrich-
ment of the self, actualizing its infinite potentialities. He wants you not to
gather your garments to prevent them from getting wet but to plunge a
thousand times in the sea of life. Fight for spiritual conquest, and not flight from
life's challenges, is the way of life that he preaches and practises. Only for a
sleeping soul life is an empty dream; creeds of illusion are the products of
lovers of sleep and worshippers of the night. About the infinity of life and its
restlessness he says, "Human egos have experienced the shaping of universe
after universe; could you say which of them mirrors the essence of your self?
Is it not that the seven heavens are below the empyrean but our flight is beyond
the empyrean? Neither the heavens nor the empyrean could be our goal; we
have to fly towards the rose-garden of union with the divine."
For Rumi life is an alchemy perpetually engaged in transformation and
transubstantiation. You see before your eyes earth, water, light, and air being
transformed into plant life, plant life turning into animal life by assimila-
tion, and animal life, ascending to mind ; why couldn't mind be transformed
into a divinized spirit ? "They say, copper turns into gold by alchemy, but
the copper of our life converts itself not only into gold but becomes an alchemy
itself with the quality of spiritualizing whatever it touches."
The space at our disposal compels us to finish this brief survey of Rumi's
outlook on life with two of his lyrics: in one he gives the characteristics
of the "Man of God" and in the other depicts a mystic's search for God
through the emblems of various creeds, ending in finding God within himself.
"The 'Man of God' is intoxicated without wine and full without meat; he is
struck with wonder and cares not about food and sleep. He is a king in
a dervish's cloak; he is a treasure found in a ruin. The constituents of
a man of God are not the four elements — earth, air, water, and fire. He is a
boundless ocean of the spirit containing countless pearls. The heaven within
him contains numerous suns and moons. He gains the truth by knowledge
from God and not from books. He stands above creeds and heresies, and he
is beyond right and wrong. He has ridden away from Non-Being in glory
and majesty. He is hidden, O Candle of Faith! such a 'Man of God' do you
seek and find."
Rumi is talking here of the ideal man or the ideal of humanity. He is hidden
in the nature of every man. The purpose of life is to reach this perfection. In
another verse he has repeated the story of Diogenes moving about in the
market-place of Athens with a lamp in his hand in broad daylight seeking Man
in a crowd of men who according to him were only counterfeiting humanity.
836
Jalal al-Din Rumi
When he is told that no such being could be found, he replies, "I am craving
to find him who is not found."
Religion has been aptly defined by Hoffding as faith in the conservation
of values. According, to Rumi's mystical metaphysics, the spirit is the origin
and locus of all intrinsic and abiding values. The Real which is manifested
in the human spirit is eternal and immortal. He exhorts human beings not to
lament the transitoriness of phenomenal life because that which is real can
never perish. Things in space emerge and disappear; forms and shapes come
and go. The streams of phenomenal life continue to flow and pass away;
lament not their vanishing because the inexhaustible eternal source remains
undiminished and shall continue to issue in many more streams.
We must note that here we have no blank qualities, no transcendent infinity
of a static Absolute, but a perpetually gushing fountain of eternal life, from
which all egos quaff as much as they can. Mortality belongs to appearances
alone; not life but death is an illusion. Every ego is destined to be immortal
by participation in life eternal. The purpose of life is self-perpetuation and
self-enrichment not only through the reproduction of the species but by the
upward and forward urge of every ego. life moves by a series of negations
and assertions ; self-realization cannot proceed without self-abnegation. Every
stage reached by an ego has to be negated and transcended so that "on their
dead selves' stepping stones men may rise to higher things." Rumi says that
from the very outset life has placed a ladder before you so that you may rise
step by step. After this he reiterates his fundamental hypothesis that life has
advanced from the inorganic to the organic, traversing the vegetable and the
animal kingdom, reaching the stage of reason, knowledge, and faith, until
man, with his body which was only a part of the earth, evolves a mind and
spirit and becomes a whole. But even after having become conscious of infinity,
the voyage of discovery through the infinite continues. For a long time it
was a journey towards God, but now it will be a journey in God's infinity,
from earth to heaven, from humanity to angelhood till the finite embraces
the Infinite: man the Son of God becomes one with the Father. It is the
bodies that become old and decrepit; life remains eternally youthful.
The Qur'an says about the creation of man that man's body was made of
clay, but the material frame having been perfected, God breathed from His
own spirit into him. Rumi in his discourses collected in Fihi ma fihi has quoted
a tradition of the Prophet wherein it is said that Adam's clay was kneaded in
forty days. The Qur'an says that God's day is an epoch of a hundred thousand
years. This mode of expression is not meant to convey an exact mathematical
figure but is an idiomatic or rhetorical expression for an immensely long
period. Accordingly, God's forty days might mean hundreds of millions of
years. Rumi concludes from this that man's bodily organism too did not come
into existence by the creative fiat of God in a moment but is a product of a
long process of evolution. It was after the perfecting of the physical organism
that the spirit of the Lord became manifest in man awakening the eternal
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
essence of the human ego. With the emergence of this consciousness the human
ego realizes that it is not a product of this evolution but, in its essence, is prior
to the phenomenal course of the universe. After this realization the universe
with its diversity of objects is viewed not as a cause but as an effect, because
the ego pours existence into its own moulds with the categories of time, space,
and causation. Rumi says that the body is not the cause of the mind but is
created by the mind as its instrument for working on the material or pheno-
menal plane. What we consider to be the qualities of an independently existing
matter exist only in relation to a perceiving mind. In a lyric, Rumi describes
his search for God after having realized the nature of his own ego. He moves
from creed to creed and dogma to dogma. Not finding Him in temples, institu-
tions, and symbols, he returns unto himself and discovers Him there in the
sanctuary of his own heart. He is not satisfied with any creed until God is
directly experienced by him. Here is one of the finest mystical lyrics of Rumi :
"I existed at a time when there were neither the names nor the objects of
which they were the names; the names and the objects named came into
existence in relation to us at a time when egos were not yet individualized
and there was not yet any question of 'I' and 'We.' I searched for God among
the Christians and on the Cross but therein found Him not. I went into the
ancient temples of idolatry ; no trace of Him was there. I entered the mountain
cave of Hira (where the Archangel Gabriel appeared to the Prophet) and then
went as far as Qandhar but God found I not, neither in low nor in high places.
With set purpose I fared to the summit of Mount Caucasus and found there
only 'anqd's habitation. Then I directed my search to the Ka'bah, the resort
of old and young ; God was not there even. Turning to philosophy I inquired
about Him from ibn Sina but found Him not within his range. I fared then
to the scene of the Prophet's experience of a great divine manifestation only
a 'two bow-lengths' distance from him' but God was not there even in that
exalted court. Finally, I looked into my own heart and there I saw Him;
He was nowhere else."
This is the experience and language of the great mystics of all spiritual
religions who were not satisfied with institutional religion, and who based their
spiritual life on personal experiences and convictions not derived from theologies
and philosophies. These experiences are the common heritage of all great
souls and the common ground on which great religions meet, disregarding
intellectual formulation of dogmas and diversities of modes of Avorship which
have made religion a dividing instead of a unitive and harmonizing force.
Rumi is one of those rare saints and mystics whose intellectual fibre and
creative moral and social effort is not weakened by subjective emotional
experiences unrelated to the realities of everyday life. In him spirituality,
rationality, and universal morality have found a healthy synthesis. God,
universe, and humanity are embraced in a single all-encompassing vision, the
vision of creative love. Tennyson ends his "In Memoriam" with a stanza
which sums up Ruml's vision and creed :
838
Mahmud ghabistari, al- Jili, and Jami
"That God, which ever lives and loves,
One God, one law, one element,
And one far off divine event,
To which the whole creation moves."
His appeal to the philosophers of religion, epistemologists, and metaphysi-
cians is as great as his appeal to the mystics of all religions. Neither modern
philosophy nor modern science has left him behind. For about a century now
the entire philosophical and scientific thought has been dominated by the
concept of evolution, and it is the evolutionary concept that has been mainly
responsible for sabotaging ancient theologies and views of creation, resulting
in almost universal scepticism and agnosticism. Theology everywhere has
been making an attempt to save the abiding realities and values of religion
by accepting universal evolution as an indubitable fact and recasting old
beliefs and dogmas. Rumi performed this task six centuries ago in a manner
that can offer guidance to all who want to reconcile religion with philosophy
and science.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Mathnawi, lithographed edition, Lahore; English translation by R. A. Nicholson,
London; Fihi ma fihi, lithographed edition, Lahore; Khalifah Abdul Hakim, The
Metaphysics of Rumi, Lahore, 1959; R. A. Nicholson, Selected Poems from the
Dlwan-i Shams-i Tabriz, London; Rumi: The Mystic, London; Afzal Iqbal, The
Life and Thought of Rumi, Bazm-i Iqbal, Lahore.
Chapter XLIII
MAHMUD SHABISTARI, AL-JlLI, AND JAMI
MAHMUD SHABISTARI
Mahmud Shabistari, so called after the name of Shabistar. a village near
Tabriz in Adharbaijan, was born about the middle of the seventh/thirteenth
century and died about 720/1320. Little is known of his life. His Qulshan-i
Rdz (The Garden of Mystery) is a poetical exposition of the doctrine of the
Unity of Being. It was written in 710/1311 in response to certain questions
about mystical philosophy asked by one Amir Husaini from Khurasan.
The exposition of the doctrine of the Unity of Being in the book adds
nothing to what had earlier been said by ibn 'Arabi. Mahmud, however, is
much clearer and much more precise than his spiritual teacher. Being, by its
very definition, he says, is existent, and Non-Being, non-existent. There is
839
A History of Muslim Philosophy
nothing in existence except the One. The contingent and the necessary were
never separate ; they existed from eternity as one. If you look at one side of
the One, it is one, and if you see the other side, it becomes many — the only
difference being that the aspect of unity is real, while that of plurality is
illusory. Reality is one but its names are many, and it is this plurality which
becomes the cause of multiplicity. 1
Essence as such is beyond our knowledge or comprehension. But, according
to Shabistari, this inability on our part to know God's essence arises because of
His nearness to us. Essence as absolute light is as invisible to the eye as Non-
Being which is absolute darkness. Nobody can look at the sun directly. But
it can be seen as reflected in water. Relative non-being is like water. It serves
as a mirror of the Absolute light in which is reflected the illumination of
Haqq (truth). This relative non-being is the latent reality fain al-tkabitah) of
ibn 'Arabi's system, which reflects the divine light in accordance with its
natural propensities. The divine light as pure hght was a hidden treasure,
but when it was reflected in the mirror, the treasure became manifest. But,
in this process, the essence that was One became many. 2
Shabistari then describes the process of descent of the One after the manner
of ibn 'Arabi. The first manifestation of the essence is the universal reason
('aql al-kulli), the stage of unity (ahadiyyah); the second is the universal
soul fnafs al-kulli). Then come Throne ( l arsh), the heavenly Chair (kursi),
seven heavenly spheres, four elements, the three kingdoms of minerals,
vegetables, and animals. The last in the series is man who is the acme of
creation. Though temporally the last in the series, man is logically the first,
as tree is potentially prior to the seed. All the world was created for
him while he was created for himself, as the embodiment of God's highest
manifestation. But he possesses certain baser elements which, however, are
essential for his moral progress. A mirror, to be able to reflect things, must
have one side totally blackened. If it were all crystal, it would cease to serve
as a mirror.
As man is the final cause of creation, everything is made to obey his com-
mand. All things are manifestations of the different names of God, but, being
the reflection of the Named, man comprises within himself all the names;
therefore, all the creation is within him. He is the most marvellous creation
of the Lord and owes everything to Him ; his power, knowledge, and will are
all God's.
Reason is perfectly useless, according to Shabistari. Its is a long, winding,
and arduous path. A philosopher is like a cross-eyed man who sees duality
everywhere. He starts with the objects of the world conceived as real. On
this basis he argues the existence of the Necessary, as distinct from and other
than the contingent. Arguing on the basis of a continuous series of causes and
1 Gulshan-i Raz, Question 12.
i Ibid., Q. 2.
Mahmud Shabistari. al-JIli, and Jami
effects, Shabistari asserts that the Necessary Being is the Primal Cause of the
process of creation. The whole process of reasoning, according to him, is wrong.
There is no possibility of the knowledge of God through the category of
contingency as the latter does not possess any similarity to the former. "It
amounts to discovering the burning sun with the help of the dim light of a
tiny candle." The best method, therefore, is to give up logical reason and
enter the valley of gnosis. 3 Knowledge gained through discursive reason leads
one to sleep, while gnosis awakens one from slumber. Like Abraham, one must
go beyond the divinity of the stars, the sun, and the moon which, according
to him, represent sense-perception, imagination, and reason, respectively. 4
In the sixth question of Gul$han-i Raz the Shaikh explicitly rejects the use-
fulness of reason in the mystic search for truth. He holds that there is "a
way" beyond reason by which man is able to know the secret of reality.
This intuitive power of man is hidden within him as fire is implicit in the
stone. When this fire blazes forth, all the world becomes bright and ulumined.
Discussing the value of knowledge in the tenth question he says that by
knowledge he does not mean the device by which people gain worldly power
and prestige ; for that is contrary to the spirit of a true mystic. Knowledge is
useful only when it leads one to right action, action that springs from the
heart. Shabistari also suggests a study of both the sources of knowledge
mentioned in the Qur'an — the external world (afaq) and the internal world
of self-consciousness (anfus). But in practice the mystics' study of the internal
world has always led them to emphasize the illusory character of the external
world.
The account of moral qualities given by Shabistari is a mere reproduction
of Platonic and Aristotelian theories. Wisdom (hikmah), moral purity ('iff ah),
bravery (shaja l ah), and justice ('addlah) are the main moral qualities. He
discusses briefly the Aristotelian principle of the mean. Paradise is the result of
following this middle path, while adopting either of the extremes would lead
to hell. When moral purification is attained, man is vouchsafed divine light
(tajatti) which illumines his soul and raises him to the highest level. Saints
and prophets are the persons who fall in the category of the illumined souls.
This manifestation (tajalli) of God is not only in things that are good but
also in things which, in common usage, we call evil. As God is the only being
and the only cause of everything, so all things without distinction manifest
His light. The logical position of pantheism is that good and evil are all alike
and, as manifestations of God, stand on an equal footing. But when we come
to the ordinary common-sense view, we distinguish between them and attri-
bute good to God and evil to Satan. 5
Like all other pantheists, Shabistari is completely deterministic. He holds
that the so-called sense of freedom possessed by man is due to his consciousness
3 Ibid., Q. 1.
* Ibid., Q. 2.
5 Ibid., Q. 10.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of selfhood as an entity distinct from God. Man is by nature non-existent
and, therefore, it is meaningless to attribute freedom to him. Believers in
freedom of choice are Zoroastrians who make a distinction between the god
of good and the god of evil. To attribute power, will, and action to man is
wrong and in this matter, according to him, both the Mu'tazilites and the
Ash'arites have gone astray — the former in saying that man is free in his
choice and the latter in making man responsible for his deeds due to the
power of "acquisition" attributed to him.
According to Shabistari, man is not created for exercising moral respon-
sibility, but for some other purpose. He does not explain what that other
purpose is. His commentator, Lahiji, however, adds that it is to serve as a
polished mirror for the manifestation of God's essence, attributes, and names.
Can we ascribe any freedom to the mirror in reflecting objects ? For everyone
of us, actions were predetermined. God's actions are inscrutible. "Can you
explain," he asks, "why one man is born Muhammad and another abu Jahl ?"
Man's dignity lies in being under compulsion and not in having a share in
free-will.
But, then, why is man held responsible for his deeds ? Is it not injustice ?
The Shaikh thinks that it is not injustice but an argument in favour of God's
absolute power and arbitrariness. Again, the object of making man responsible
for deeds over which he has no control is to compel him to renounce this
world for ever, as he is elementally incapable of fulfilling the obligation of
following the right path and obeying God's Law, i.e., Shari'ah.*
What are the steps by which an individual reaches the stage of perfection ?
He is born, according to him, as the acme of creation, the purest of the pure,
and the highest of the high. But due to his descent into the phenomenal world,
he comes down to the lowest level. His state at this stage is directly opposite
to the state of unity. But due to mumination which he receives through his
intuitive powers or his rational capacity, man realizes his weakness and then
sets on a journey backward. It is travelling from contingency to necessity,
from plurality to unity, from evil to good.
There are three stages in this journey. The first is called absorption. Here
the light of God shines through his actions so that the mystic regards the
actions of everything as illusory. Nothing besides God possesses any causal
power. At the second stage the divine light shines through God's attributes
and so the Sufi regards the attributes of everything else as merged in God.
The last stage comes when the mystic receives mumination from the very
essence and sees the real state of affairs. For him nothing is existent except
He and the being of all things is derived solely from Him. When he reaches
this stage, he becomes perfect and attains a state of union with his Lord "so
much so that neither angels nor prophets can equal him. The whole circle of
existence is covered and man reaches the point from where he started." 7
• Ibid., Q. 9.
' Ibid., Q. 4.
Mahmud Shabistari. al-Jili, and Jami
The religious Law (Shari'ah), the mystic Path (Tarlqah), and Truth
(Haqiqah) — all go to form the perfect man. Shari'ah. according to the Shaikh,
is like the protecting shell of the almond. It is useful to a certain stage. When
the stage of perfection is reached, the shell becomes useless and is better
thrown away. Nevertheless, a perfect Sufi needs religion — not for himself but
for others.
Shabistari follows the general trend of mystic writers in describing the
nature of saintship (wildyah) and prophethood (nubuuxwah) . Saintship is a
more general category than prophethood. Saints so called and prophets are all
saints in the first instance. In a mystic saintship is hidden, while in a prophet
it is manifest. A saint is a follower of the prophet in Law and in this he
attains the highest position and becomes equal to the prophet in realizing
union with the Lord. With the death of the Holy Prophet the first cycle of
saintship, a cycle in which prophethood and saintship were both manifest in
the world, came to an end. After the Final Prophet, saintship continued and
the new cycle began to take its shape. One day the seal of saints will appear,
who shall be the acme of saintship and, with his appearance, the cycle of the
two worlds will come to an end. He will be the whole, of which all the
previous saints were parts. Like the "Seal of the Prophets," he shall be a
blessing to the whole world. He will succeed in bringing peace and security
to man; justice and equity will reign. 8 The word "seal," according to ibn
'Arabi, does not signify a mystic with whom saintship will come to an end,
but with Shabistari. the seal of saints, like the "Seal of Prophets," would
terminate saintship for ever. The last of the saints is the "seal" with whom
the world will come to an end.
This world of matter, however, being the locus of God's manifestation
(tajalli) cannot come to an end at all. There shall be no time when the
manifestation of Haqq can be said to have ceased. The present world and the
world to come will meet and there is no dividing line between the two. The
next world is something ever in the making. What we usually call this world
and the next are mere names for what Shabistari. following ibn 'Arabi, calls the
ever-new process of creation, an unending cycle of annihilation and re-creation.
In the life to come, man would be without body but it would be some-
thing subtle and transparent. Our deeds and mental dispositions of the present
life would take concrete shape and become materialized in some tangible form.
Good disposition will take the shape of light (paradise) and bad the shape of
fire (hell). 9
After death, the individuality of man shall vanish at last and many shall
be dissolved into One. 10 Man shall be vouchsafed the beatific vision, but it
will not be something external ; it will be a manifestation within himself. 11
8 Ibid.
• Ibid., Q. 11.
10 Ibid.
11 Ibid.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
B
AL-JlLI
'Abd al-Karim b. Ibrahim al-Jili was born in 767/1365 and died in about
832/1428. Except for the few references in his book, almost nothing is known
about his life. He was the disciple of Shaikh Sharaf al-Din al-Jabarti and
lived in Zabid (Yemen). He also visited India during his travels. He claims
that he received mystic illumination which led him to write his well-known
book, al-Insan al-Kamil fi Ma'rifat al-Aivakhir w-al-AwWil. Its object is to
expound and express the truth.
He holds that Absolute Being is one and that all multiplicity is illusory.
"Absolute Being is the essence fain) of what we call the phenomenal world
(Ichfllq) and God (Haqq). The Absolute Being manifests itself in two different
realities, kftalq and Haqq." 12
Essence, Attributes, and Names. — Absolute Essence is that to which names
and attributes are ascribed. It is a Self (nafs) which exists by Itself. It
deserves every name which Its perfection demands. No description in words
can fully convey Its essence. A thing can be understood by another thing
which is related to it positively or negatively, but there is nothing in the
universe which is so related to the Absolute. It is Pure Being which is equal
to Non-Being — a sum of contradictions. "It is two contradictories gathered in
a unity and this sum of contradictions is not impossible." 13 It has two attri-
butes : eternity and everlastingness ; two qualities : God (Haqq) and the world
(hbnlq); two descriptions: eternity (qidam) and createdness (huduth); two
names: Rabb and 'abd {Lord and slave). It has two faces: outward (visible),
i.e!, the present world, and inward (invisible), i.e., the world to come. It has
two predicates: necessity and possibility; two points of view: according to
the first, It is non-existent for Itself and existent for others, while, according
to the second, It is existent for Itself and non-existent for others ; two modes
(ma'rifah): according to the one, It is positive (toujub) in one plane and
negative in the other, while, according to the other, the position is reversed.
With regard to Its Self (nafs), It is simple; with regard to Its form, It is
compound; with regard to Its essence, It is unique; with regard to Its
emanation, It is light; and with regard to Its indivisibility, It is darkness;
and still It is beyond what we have said about It." 14
It is clear that according to al-Jili reality is one 15 and belongs to divine
Substance (jauhar) which has two different aspects: God and the world.
12 'Abd al-Karim al-Jili, al-Insan al-Kamil, Urdu translation by Fadal Miran,
Sufi Printing and Publishing Company, Pindi Baliauddin, p. 4. All references to
al-Insan al-Kamil are to this Urdu translation.
13 Ibid., p. 30.
14 Ibid., pp. 30-32.
15 Ibid., p. 27. He says that Being is of two kinds. One is Pure Being and that
is the divine essence; the other is related to Not-Being and that is the phenomenal
world.
844
Mahmud ghabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
Multiplicity is only subjective and relative. "You can say what you like. You
are at liberty to say that the circle [of reality] is God and its inside is the
world or that the circle is the world and its inside is God. It is God as well as the
world." 16 "You should know that knowledge of that lofty essence is that you
should realize through mystic experience that you are He and He is you.
This is neither union (ittihdd) nor incarnation (fyulvl), for the slave is
slave and the Lord is Lord : the slave does not become Lord, nor the Lord
slave." 17 A true mystic or the perfect man is able to realize in his super-
sensuous experience that multiplicity is only a subjective way of looking at
things, otherwise reality that underlies it is one. 18 What we call the world is
nothing but the manifestation of God. In another place, he says, "Just as
God was present in eternity in the Dark Mist ('Ama') which is also called
Reality of realities, Hidden Treasure and White [Pure] Chrysolite, so is He
present now in all the things of the phenomenal world without incarnation
(hulvl) and mixture (imtizdj). He is manifested in the parts and atoms of
the phenomenal world without becoming many." 19
Like ibn 'Arabi, he deals with the problem of transcendence and immanence
as differentiating attributes of the essence which correspond to the twin
characteristics of God and the world. Immanence (tasKbih) is the form of
divine beauty which is manifested in all the things of the phenomenal world
without any distinction. 20 The Christians are right when they say that Christ,
Mary, and the Holy Ghost are all manifestations of God, but they are wrong
when they limit this manifestation to three persons only. As a matter of
fact, God is immanent in the whole world. 21 Any belief about reality that
ignores any of these two characteristics, transcendence and immanence, is
defective and wrong as is the case with Christianity for instance. Transcendence
(tanzih), when applied to God, implies that, in spite of His manifestation in
all things, He is above and beyond all of them. But this sort of transcendence,
according to al-Jili, is related to immanence and, therefore, does not fully
represent the true essence which is characterized by what he calls essential
or eternal transcendence, as He is in Himself, which He alone can know and
which none can claim to understand. He is, therefore, above even the tran-
scendence which is asserted of Him in correlation with His immanence. 22
Name (ism) is that which specifies the named in the understanding, pictures
" Ibid., p. 39.
" Ibid., p. 44.
18 The Qur'anic verse (xxviii, 88) is usually translated as "Everything is liable to
destruction except His Face." But al-Jili interprets the word wajhahu pantheistically
and translates it as "its (i.e., thing's) essence," thereby implying that one reality
subsists in all multiplicity; ibid., p. 36.
19 Ibid., chapter 62, para 1.
80 Ibid., chapter 11, pp. 69-70.
21 He quotes several Qur'anic verses (xv, 85; xli, 53, etc.) to prove this point;
ibid., p. 156. See also p. 145.
" Ibid., pp. 67-68.
845
A History of Muslim Philosophy
it in the mind, brings it in imagination, arranges it in thought, preserves it
in memory, and presents it to the intellect. A man who does not know the
named gets its knowledge through the name. The name and the named are
related to each other as outside to inside (zahir to batin) but in fact both
are identical. There are some names the named of which do not exist in actual
reality, as, for instance, 'anqd' which exists only in name. 'Anqd' and Allah
stand at opposite poles; while the object of 'anqd' is Non-Being, the object of
Allah is Absolute Being. We can reach knowledge of God through divine
names and attributes or through the name Allah which comprises in itself
all names and attributes. Names are of two kinds: (1) of the essence, e.g.,
one (ahad), single (wdkid), unique (fard), etc., (2) of the attributes, e.g.,
knowledge, power, mercy, etc. 23
An attribute of a thing is that which leads one to the knowledge of its
state. This distinction between attributes and essence is operative only in
the sphere of the phenomenal world. "Everything in the phenomenal world
which is qualified by an attribute demands that the attribute should be
other than the thing, because it is subject to division and multiplicity. At the
same time it demands that the attribute should be identical with it. We say
that man is a rational animal. It means that animality is a separate entity
and so is rationality a thing different from man. But it also means that rational-
ity and animality are both identical with man, because he is composed of
both and is nothing beyond them. With regard to division, the attributes of
a creature are different from its essence, while with regard to arrangement
(tarkib) they are identical with it. But in God, this otherness disappears,
for division and multiplicity do not apply to Him. His attributes are His
essence and the two are identical." 24
Thus, according to al-Jili, the material world is not an unreality, a maya,
but a reality which expresses the outward form of the Real. Plurality and
division in the external world are the manifestations of the divine essence as
attributes which are in the last analysis identical with it. If we do not accept this
view -of identity, the universe would not, according to him, lead to the essence.
In the fifty-seventh chapter of Insan-i Kdmil, al-Jili says explicitly that
thought or idea is the material of the universe. "Thought is the life of the
spirit of the universe. . . . Existence is nothing but a thought. Thought is the
origin and the source of Being fwujud) and is the essence in which God is
completely manifested. Don't you see your belief about God as having names
and attributes which pertain to Him? Where is the locus of the belief (i.e.,
the universe) in which God has manifested Himself for you ? It is nothing
but thought." 25 Later on, he asserts that Being (wujud), as a matter of fact,
is nothing but "a thought within a thought within a thought." 26 Thus, by
23 Ibid., pp. 33 ff.
21 Ibid., pp. 120-21.
25 Ibid., pp. 214-15.
26 Ibid., pp. 216-17.
Mahmud Shabistari, al-JIli, and Jami
identifying attributes and essence, he is able to give reality to the physical
world of nature which to the mystic becomes a source of the direct knowledge
of God.
Among the important divine attributes he mentions divinity (ildhlyyak),
mercifulness (rahmaniyyak), and lordship (rububiyyah). Divinity is the sum
of all the realities (i.e., all individualities) of Being and their maintenance in
their respective positions (maratib) within the whole. It is the rank of God as
Necessary Being. "You should know that Being and Non-Being are two
opposites, and the sphere of divinity comprises both. It is a sum of two pairs of
contradictories: eternal and created (Jfodith), God and the world, Being and
Non-Being. At this stage God appears in the form of the world and the world
in the form of God." 27 Divinity is the highest manifestation of the essence and
is invisible, while its effects in the form of nature are visible everywhere.
Essence is visible to the eye but its locus is not fixed or visible; we see it
manifested but cannot describe its quality. Take the example of man. He is
characterized by some attributes, all of which never come within the compass
of our comprehension, though we see man all right. It means that essence is
visible while its attributes are not. Of the latter we see nothing but effects. For
instance, we see the marching forward on the part of a brave man. Similarly,
we see giving of alms to the poor on the part of a generous man. "Marching
forward" and "giving of alms" are not bravery and generosity respectively,
but only the effects of these attributes. 28
Mercifulness (rafymdniyyah) is the manifestation of the essence in the
realities of names and attributes. It refers only to the creative and not to the
creaturely attributes, while ilahiyyah refers to both. In this respect mercifulness
appears to be higher in scale than divinity, as sweetness of sugar does with
regard to the sugarcane. If you prefer sweetness to sugarcane, mercifulness is
better than divinity, but if looking at the generality and comprehensive charac-
ter of the sugarcane, you prefer it to sweetness, then divinity will be prior in
rank. The name that manifests itself in this rank is that of Rahman (the Merciful)
which includes both the attributes of the essence as oneness (dhadlyyah),
uniqueness (wahdiyyah), eternity (samadlyyah), etc., and attributes of His Self
which are seven, viz., life, knowledge, power, will, speech, hearing, and sight. 29
The first mercy of God was the creation of the universe from His own
Self. 30 His manifestation permeated all existents and His perfection appeared
in every atom and particle. In spite of manifestation in the many, He does
not become many but remains One as His nature demands. The nature of
His permeation is that He created the world out of His Self which is not
divisible.
" Ibid., pp. 4S-49.
28 Ibid., pp. 47-52.
M Ibid., p. 58.
30 He refers to the Qur'anic verse (xlv, 13) in which the words jaml 1 'an minhu
are interpreted by him to mean as "all (created) from His own self."
847
A History of Muslim Philosophy
God is the substance (hayvla) of the universe. 31 In order to clarify his
position, al-Jili gives the example of water and ice. God is like water which
is the reality of ice and the world is like ice which is nothing but water {i.e.,
God) in a congealed form. The use of the term "ice" is only metaphorical
and secondary, and not real. For the world and God are identical. "The world
is nothing but ice, and ice, according to our opinion, is nothing but water.
Our belief is that ice and water are identical," 32
God permeates the whole of existence through His name Rahman and this
permeation is neither incarnation (huliU) nor contact, for both these con-
ceptions imply duality; as a matter of fact, He is consnbstantial with
existents fain al-maujudai).
Lordship (rvbvhtyyah) is the name of the rank which demands those names
that require the being of the existents and comprehends such names as the
knower ('alim), the hearer (sami'), the seer (basir), the self-subsisting
(qayyum), and the willing (murld). Each name under this category demands
its logical correlate. The knower implies the object known and willing implies
the objects towards which the will is directed. 33
There are four kinds of attributes: beauty (jamal), perfection (kamdl),
majesty (jaldl), and essence (dhdt).
Every divine name and attribute has its effect which reflects one of the
three: beauty, majesty, or perfection. All existents absolutely reflect all
the names and attributes of beauty and some of the names and attributes of
majesty as well as those of perfection. Paradise is the manifestation of
absolute beauty, while hell is the manifestation of absolute majesty. The
perfect man alone is the complete manifestation of all these divine names and
attributes.
Al- Jlli then deals with the ten main attributes : life, knowledge, will, power,
speech, hearing, sight, beauty, majesty, perfection, even though they are so
innumerable that none can comprehend them in their entirety. 34
1 . Life. — Complete life is the existence of a thing for itself, while incomplete
or relative life is its existence for another. God exists for Himself, is living
(hayy) and, therefore, His life is complete and not subject to death. All creatures
live for God and, therefore, their life is relative and hence subject to decay
and death. Life of God as manifested in created beings (khalq) is one and
complete and yet the creatures receive it in different degrees. In some, this
life appears in its complete form as, for instance, in the perfect man and the
exalted angels and those things which are not composed of material elements,
as the Exalted Pen, the Preserved Tablet, etc. In others, this life appears in
31 He refers to the Qur'anic verse (xlvi, 3) for the phrase bi cd-Haqq which is
interpreted by him to mean that everything was created out of Haqq, i.e., Haqq
served as matter for the world.
32 Al-Insan al-Kamil, p. 60.
33 Ibid., p. 61.
34 Ibid., p. 116.
848
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
its real form but is incomplete, as, for instance, in animal, man, lower angel,
and jinn, because though each of them lives for his own self and knows that
he exists and possesses different attributes, yet his existence is not real, for
he is far removed from the source of life. In others, as in animals, life does not
appear in its real form. There are others for whom life has lost its real signifi-
cance and, therefore, they live for others and not for themselves as, for in-
stance, plants, minerals, etc.
Everything existent is alive, for existence by itself implies life, though
different things manifest it in various degrees ; some enjoy complete life while
others have imperfect life. But if we look at the matter from the transcendental
point of view, life of everything is complete, though there seems to be a quanti-
tative difference due to the inherent capacity of the thing itself. Life as such
is a fountain, a unity, a substance, existent in everything by its own per-
fection and is not subject to diminution or division.
The essence of a thing is its life, that is, life of God, whereby everything
subsists. The life of things with regard to themselves is created (hddith) hut
in relation to God it is eternal (qadim), for the life of a thing is in reality
His life. "You should know that forms, shapes, actions, words, minerals, and
plants to which we attribute 'existence' possess like man complete life by
themselves and for themselves. But because most people do not know
this fact, we include them in a category lower than that in which they should
be placed. As a matter of fact, everything possesses being for itself and com-
plete life with which it speaks, hears, sees, understands, and has power and
will of its own and does what it wishes to do. This fact has been learnt by
me from direct revelation in mystic experience." 36 In other words, everything,
material as well as non-material, is, according to al-Jili, self-determined, and
possesses a unique individuahty of its own.
2. Kncnvledge. — Of all the attributes, knowledge is nearer to life as life is
nearer to essence. Every living thing (or everything, for, according to him,
everything has life) possesses knowledge in one form or another. The first
form of knowledge is instinctive or what he calls inspirational ('ilm-i ilhdmi),
possessed even by animals. The other is clear, necessary, or inferential know-
ledge possessed by man, angels, and jinn. Life and knowledge are correlated
and each demands the other.
Al-Jili holds that knowledge by which God knows Himself and knowledge
by which He knows the objects of the universe are one and the same and
there can be no division or difference in the two. According to ibn 'Arabi,
God's knowledge of the objects is dependent on what they (objects) give of
themselves to Him. Commenting on the Qur'anic verse (iii, 178): "Verily
God is not unjust to His servants," ibn 'Arabi says, "No, I dealt with them
only according as I knew them, and I knew them only by what they 'gave'
> Ibid.,
A History of Muslim Philosophy
me of themselves of what they themselves really are." 36 Similarly, discussing
the problem of creation, ibn 'Arabi says that when God says "Be" to a thing,
it is not God's will that brings a thing into existence because God wills nothing
and commands nothing the existence of which is not made necessary by the
very nature and laws of things themselves. 37 Thus, according to him, God's
will and knowledge are both dependent on the nature of the objects. Al-Jili
rejects this view as wrong. God's knowledge of objects, according to him, is
totally independent of the objects themselves. It is true, he says, that God's
decree (fiukm) with regard to a thing is determined by what its essence
demands it to be, but it is wrong to infer from this that God's knowledge of
objects is thereby determined by the nature of the objects themselves. As a
matter of fact, the objects demanded of Him that very thing which He knew
by His universal, essential, and fundamental knowledge before they were
brought into existence. God's knowledge of objects is determined not by the
necessity or demand of those objects but by its own inner demand. 38
3. Will. — God's knowledge manifests itself according to the demands of
His essence and it is will which gives existence to His objects of know-
ledge as His knowledge demands. Our created will is identical with God's
will, but when attributed to us it becomes temporal, while attributed to
God it is eternal, just as Being when attributed to us is created (makhluq)
and when attributed to God is eternal.
Here again he disagrees with ibn 'Arabi, according to whom God is nothing
but the name of immutable laws which operate in the universe. "Ibn 'Arabi
rules out not only the individual freedom of man, but that of God's will as
well. God does not will in the sense that He chooses, but in the sense that
He decrees what He knows will take place. That the thing or action which God
has decreed should take place, depends entirely on its own necessary laws." 39
But, according to al-Jili, just as God is free and undetermined in His know-
ledge, so His will is absolutely undetermined and uncaused. God's will operates
in every form and shape without any cause or condition; it is absolutely
God's free act. He says that, according to ibn 'Arabi, it is wrong to call God
free (mukhtdr), for He does not operate in the universe by His free-will; His
actions are determined by the necessity and nature of the objects. But,
according to al-Jili himself, God operates in the universe through His free-will
and is not determined by any necessity external to Him. 40
4. Power. — It is an attribute of the essence which brings objects of know-
ledge into the world of actuality. Power is the creation or bringing into
existence of objects from the state of Non-Being.
36 Fusils al-Hikam (Urdu translation, Lueknow, 1927), p. 172. See Affifi, The
Mystical Philosophy of Muhyld Din-Ibnul 'Arabi, Cambridge, 1939, p. 152.
" Fusus, pp. 155, 272; Affifi, op. cit., p. 31.
38 Al-Insan al-Kamil, pp. 96-100.
39 Affifi, op. cit., p. 156.
40 Al-Insan al-Kamil, pp. 101-04.
850
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
Here, again, he controverts the position of ibn 'Arabi according to whom
there is no creation at all. The objects of the physical world existed from
eternity as objects of God's knowledge. What we usually call creation is
nothing but manifestation of these already existing objects of knowledge on
a different plane. There is no question of temporal priority or posteriority nor
is there any creation ex nihilo at all. 41 Al-Jili does not accept this position in
toto.
He says that it is true that creation means the coming into actual existence
of things which were previously the objects of God's consciousness. But ibn
'Arabi 5 according to him, forgot to note the fact that God's existence was
prior to the existence of latent realities, things as objects of His consciousness
(a'ydn aJ-thabitah), and at this stage the things were non-existent and there
was in existence nothing but Allah to whom alone we can attribute eternity
(qidam). It follows that He created the objects of His consciousness from
non-existence ('adam).
Allah in essence is independent and His being is first only as a matter of
rank (rutbah) ; creatures are dependent on Him and, therefore, their being
is posterior in the same sense. The creatures are non-being with reference to
the First Being. There is no lapse of time between the non-existence of
things and their becoming objects of God's consciousness. 42 The question of
priority is only logical and not temporal.
The same line of argument is presented in discussing the nature of eternity
(azal) and everlastingness (abad). Eternity is of two kinds. One is the eternity
of a created thing. It refers to the time when it had no being. Eternity of
one creature is different from the eternity of others. For instance, eternity
of inorganic matter is different from that of organic substances, for it is
prior to the latter. We can, therefore, speak of eternity with reference to the
organic substances when the inorganic substances were in existence and had
not yet developed and evolved into organic form ; it does not, however, imply
any temporal priority. The other is absolute eternity which belongs only to
God who is above Being and Non-Being. God's eternity has no relation what-
soever with that of the creatures because He is (logically) prior to them. We
cannot say, as ibn 'Arabi, for instance, holds, that in the state of absolute
eternity the world existed, if not objectively, as the object of God's
knowledge, for if we accept this position, we would be bound to regard the
created world as co-eternal and co-existent with God. He quotes a Qur'anic
verse (lxxvi, 1) in support of his thesis: "Has there not been over man a long
period of time when he was nothing — to be spoken of?" Al-Jili holds that
time fdahr) in this context means Allah and a portion of time (hln) is one
of His manifestations when man had no being, either as an intelligible
('ilmi, i.e. an object of God's consciousness in the form of latent reality) or
41 Ibid., p. 105.
41 Ibid., pp. 105-06.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
an actual reality ('aini). The part of the verse "nothing— to be spoken of"
signifies that he did not form the content of God's mind. 43
Similarly, when we apply everlastingness to God, it is logical and not
temporal. "Eternity and everlastingness are only logical determinations and
not temporal events in reference to God." "These two, i.e., eternity and
everlastingness with their temporal implications, have been employed only
to clarify the real existence of God (in relation to the world), otherwise (as
a matter of fact) there is neither temporal eternity nor everlastingness. Time
has no reference or significance in relation to God." 44
Difference between eternity and everlastingness is that eternity refers to
the logical priority of God, while everlastingness means that He was never
non-existent nor in need of an efficient causality for His Being. We apply
to TTim the term "everlastingness" only for understanding His eternity, other-
wise ascription of temporal priority and posteriority to Him as related to the
world is out of question. Temporality (huduth) implies that things, although
they have been in the knowledge of God since eternity, in respect of their
existence are created things. 45
5. Speech (Kalam). — Speech is a reflection of the Being of God; it is an
overflowing or emanation (faid) from the essence of God. It is an intelligible
epiphany. It manifests itself in two directions. The first is of two kinds.
(a) The first kind of speech (kalam) issues forth from God's position of power
f'izzah) which must be obeyed by all. The Qur'anic verse, xli, 11, refers to
this fact. 45 " (b) The second kind of speech issues forth from the position of
Lordship in the language of the people such as the revealed books. In this
case, the question of obedience and disobedience arises. Some obey while
others disobey the injunctions contained in them.
The second significance (direction) of speech is metaphysical and is the
basis of the doctrine of Logos. The Word of God is the reality of the existents
and every existent is a Word of God. Al-Jili refers to the Qur'anic verse: "If
the sea were ink for the Words of my Lord, the sea would surely be consumed
before the Words of my Lord are exhausted" (xviii, 109). Thus, Nature is the
materialization of the Word of God and exists in its physical form. It is the
objective and material form of the contents of God's consciousness, the physical
shape that the objects of His knowledge, called a'ydn al-thabitah, assume. 46
43 Ibid., pp. 127-33.
« Ibid., pp. 129-30.
4S In a certain sense, he argues, a'ydn al-thabitah can be called eternal. God is
eternal and His knowledge must also be eternal. As objects of God's knowledge,
a'yan al-thabitah must of necessity be eternal. And yet, he adds, in their essence,
they are hadith. Because huduth is an actual existential fact (amr al-'aini) and
qidam only a logical determination (amr al-hukmi), al-Jili prefers to call a'yan
hadith rather than qadim. Al-Insan al-Kamil, p. 132.
45a The verse is as follows: "He said to (the heavens) and to the earth: 'Come
both, willingly or unwillingly.' They both said: 'We come willingly.' "
4 * Al-Insan al-Kamil, pp. 107-09.
852
Mahmud ghabistari, al-Jili, and J ami
6. Hearing is divine epiphany. — It is an attribute of His essence which His
perfection demands. He hears the words of His own consciousness as well
as those of His manifestations (shu'un). The second hearing (of the mani-
festations) is the demand of His names and attributes which are to be mani-
fested in the physical world. It is revelation of Himself to Himself in the state
of self-consciousness. 47
7. Sight. — The attribute of sight with reference to seeing the object of
knowledge is nothing but God as He is in His essence, and the same is the
case with His attribute of knowledge. With regard to the epiphany of know-
ledge which is the originator of the universe, it is the revelation of the attribute
of knowledge from Himself to Himself, while the epiphany of 'ain, which is
the objective physical world, is the manifestation of the attribute of seeing,
and both are identical with His essence. Seeing and knowing are two different
attributes and yet, with reference to His essence, they are one: His seeing
is His knowing. When the things were on the plane of the unseen, they were
the objects of His knowledge ; when they appeared on the plane of existence,
they became the objects of His hearing. 48
8. Beauty.— It is of two kinds. The first is real and is reflected in the
"beautiful names" in which God sees Himself. The second is sensory and
reflected in the physical created world. He is the absolute beauty, and reveals
Himself in its different manifestations.
9. Majesty is beauty in its intense form. — Beauty signifies His exalted attri-
butes, while majesty is His essence as manifested in His names and attributes.
10. Perfection is the name of divine essence which is perfectly unknowable. —
All attributes of God are identical with His essence and not added to it and
so perfection is His by His very nature. 49
Self -revelations of the One. B0 — The Ultimate Reality, according to al-Jili,
is One which manifests itself in the multiplicity of forms without thereby
becoming many. The state of the One before It revealed Itself is called, after
ibn 'Arabi, blindness (al-'Ama'). The term was adopted from a prophetic
tradition. The Holy Prophet was once asked about the place of God before
creation. He answered that God was in 'Amd'. On the basis of this simple
answer, ibn 'Arabi and al-Jili have built a superstructure of their pantheistic
systems.
The essence is Absolute Being in which all relations, modes, and directions
disappear. As such it cannot be called a necessary or eternal being for this
implies determination of one sort or another. It is even above the charac-
terization of absoluteness. 51 Al-Jili calls this essence 'Ama' and describes it
as essence in its inwardness. It is like a flint which hides fire in its innermost
47 Ibid., pp. 109-11.
48 Ibid., pp. 111-12.
49 Ibid., pp. 116-20.
50 Ibid. t p. 92.
51 Ibid.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
recesses. Though sometimes fire is revealed, yet it remains hidden within it.
It is the Reality of realities which is above the distinction of God (Haqq) and
the world (khalq), beyond the determinations of names and attributes. 62
It is the one epiphany which has no relation whatsoever with the "other."
In spite of this, it comprises within itself all (later) manifestations or revelations
which are present in it only potentially like stars in the light of the sun. In
this epiphany of essence, God knows nothing but Himself, while in other
epiphanies He knows Himself as well as others. 63
This state of blindness is related to Absolute Oneness (ahadiyyah), in both
of which names and attributes are annihilated and nothing is manifested,
with the difference that in the former the inward aspect is emphasized, while
in the latter its outward aspect takes its form. 'Ama', with regard to inward-
ness and occultation or hiddenness, is the essence, while Absolute Oneness
with regard to God's manifestation to Himself is His mind (nafs) in which
all relations are negated. 64
Absolute Oneness denotes that the Pure Being is about to start on the
process of descent, conning down towards manifestation. 56 This is the first
stage of the descent or self-revelation of the essence from the darkness of
'Amd,- to the light of manifestations. At this stage unity is complete and all
multiplicity is negated, although it resides in it ; it is divested of all attributes,
names, relations, and modes, and yet they all lie hidden in its innermost
being. Its apparent unity is identical with its hidden plurality. It is like a wall
when seen from a distance. Although it is composed of different constituents
like bricks, mortar, etc., and is, thus, a plurality, yet it shows itself to an
observer as a unity which has a peculiar existence of its own and is not merely
a conglomeration of different parts. It is the first self-revelation of the One
and is above the distinctions of God andthe world. No one can claim to receive
illumination from the One at this stage, for it is beyond all multiplicity; what
we experience is really unity in its second stage, Rabb or Allah. 66
The unity (ahadiyyah) of God at a particular stage of manifestation spreads
out into a pair of opposites which later on are reunited at the stage of unique-
ness or simple oneness (wahdiyyah). The intervening stage between ahadiyyah
and wahdiyyah is represented by He-ness (huwiyyah) and I-ness (anlyyah). 57
Ibn 'Arabi employs the term huwlyyah (He-ness) as equivalent to divine
essence. 68 But for al-Jili this He-ness is a stage removed from the essence. It is
derived from the pronoun huiva (he) which refers to the "absent one" (gha'ib)
52 Ibid., p. 64.
53 Ibid., pp. 65-66.
54 Ibid., pp. 64-66.
55 Ibid., p. 92.
56 Ibid., pp. 54-55.
57 Ibid., p. 92.
58 See Affifi, op. cit., p. 24, footnote 1. Also p. 114 where He-ness is identified
with 'Amd\
854
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and J ami
and, therefore, refers to the essence of God from which names and attributes
are absent, that is, to His unity which negates the many. It is the inward
aspect of the unity which informs us about its inwardness (batin) and absence
(gh&ibubiyyah). It is the inmost consciousness of Allah. 69
Aniyyah (I-ness) is the outward aspect of unity in which One blossoms
forth into multiplicity. Zahir (outward) and batin (inward) are not two different
aspects of the One but only Its different views; as a matter of fact, the
outward and the inward are identical. He-ness and I-ness, outwardness and
inwardness refer to the reality which is signified by the name Allah because
ilahiyyah is a sum of contradictories.'
The stage of self-revelation called simple Oneness (wahdiyyah) is the
manifestation of the essence in which all different attributes are gathered
together. Here everything is One and many, many is One and One many.
At this stage, essence is manifested as attribute and attribute as essence.
Every attribute is identical with the other, as generosity is with revengeful-
ness, for both are identical with (or 'ain of) Allah. In ahadiyyah, there is no
manifestation of names and attributes and the Real is the pure essence. In
wahdiyyah, names and attributes as well as their traces and effects are fully
manifested, but they are not separate from the essence ; here every attribute
is identical with (the 'ain of) the other. In ilahiyyah names and attributes are
manifested but are distinguished one from the other and are even contra-
dictory to one another. 61
Ascent of the soul. — The different grades of the self -revelations of the One
are only a logical description of how, according to al-Jili, the Real, i.e., God,
manifests Himself in nature and man. It is man in whom He becomes self-
conscious and who realizes the ultimate truth that there is no multiplicity
or division, for reality is one. But, as al-Jili says, this realization does not
dawn on him all of a sudden. It is not possible for man to realize and
comprehend all the divine realities at the time of birth. He ascends to the
truth only by gradual stages. 62 Al-Jili enumerates four different stages which
man has to traverse before he is able to achieve unity with the source and
origin of life, the One.
1. Illumination of action. — At this stage man feels that God permeates all
objects of the world; it is He who moves them and is ultimately responsible
for their rest. The power of performing action is attributed by al-Jili to God
only and man is looked upon as devoid of all power or will. He enumerates
several degrees and grades of this stage. There are some who first see the divine
will and then look to the action and, thus, they are made to realize the conflict
between God's will and religious injunctions. There are some who follow His
will, although thereby they violate His order (amr). With regard to the first,
5 » Al-Insan al-Kamil, p. 122.
40 Ibid., p. 124.
61 Ibid., pp. 56-57.
62 Ibid., p. 140.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
i.e., will, they are obedient, while, with regard to the second, they are classed
among the disobedients. Al-Jili leaves the problem unsettled by asking the
question: "Is it better for man, in order to win God's favour, to put on the
dress of disobedience for the sake of fulfilling God's will or to put on the dress
of obedience and defy thereby His will, though, as a matter of fact, only that
happens which is according to the will of God ?" 68
2. Illumination of names.— When a mystic receives illumination from
any one of the divine names, his being is completely submerged under the
light of the name. Both are so much identified that when anyone calls God
by that name the response comes from the mystic. The result is that he comes
to realize his unity with the Real. "Anyone who calls Laila (my beloved)
by her name receives answer from me; when anyone calls me, then Laila
answers on my behalf. We are one soul though in two different bodies or we
two are like a person who in essence is one but has two names. As a matter
of fact, we are not two persons that have become one, but are one ; the lover
is the beloved."
Al-Jili enumerates several grades and degrees of this illumination, all of
which are based on his mystical experiences. Other people may arrive at a
different set of stages on the basis of their mystical experience. The first is
the illumination of the name Eternal (Qadlm). Here God reveals to man his
position as he existed before the creation of the world in the consciousness
of God (i.e., as 'am al-ihabitah). His physical existence vanishes.
As the knowledge of God is eternal, so are the objects of His knowledge.
This being so, the man who receives illumination from the name Eternal ipso
facto loses his temporality and becomes as eternal as his latent reality f'«m
al-thabitah). He who receives the epiphany of the name al-Ffaqq (the Truth)
realizes the hidden truth contained in the Qur'anic verse (xv, 85) : "We created
the heavens, the earth, and whatever is in them with truth." For him the
phenomenal world ceases to exist and only the essence, devoid of all attributes
and relations, remains. There are others who receive epiphany of the name
al-Ahad (the One). God reveals to them the true nature of the phenomenal
world and they realize in their mystic revelation that this world is a reflection
(buruz) of His essence and is related to Him as waves to the sea. In this
state the mystic sees the One in the many; rather the many disappear altogether
and only the One remains as the Real.
Al-Jili sums up his position in these words: "I lost my (separate) being
(ivujud). On my behalf He represented me; rather He was I and I, He. Being
was one and there was no conflict or difference. I was annihilated and achieved
abiding life (baqa') with Him and in Him, and all the veils of difference and
dualities were removed. I raised my self (nafs), the veil was lifted and I
awoke as if I had not fallen asleep. With the eyes of reality I found myself
as Haqq. Then His attributes became my attributes and my self (dkat) His
1 Ibid., pp. 71-74.
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
essence. As a matter of fact, my name is His name and the name of His
essence is my name."
There are some who receive light (tajalli) from the name al-RaTymdn (the
Merciful). At this stage, the mystic receives illumination gradually and turn
by turn from all the divine names and is illumined according to the capacity of
the light inherent in his nature. Then the name Rabb (Nourisher) and all
other names that are related to it like 'Allm (Knower), Qadir (Powerful), etc.,
descend on him. This process goes on till he is illumined by all the names.
Last of all comes the epiphany of the name Qayyum (Self -subsisting). This
is the final stage after which the mystic passes on to the next higher stage
of the illumination of divine attributes. 64
3. Illumination of attributes. — At this stage, the self (nafs) and existence
(ivujud) of the mystic are annihilated. When the light of slavehood ('abdiyyah)
and the spirit of creatureliness in him pass away, God substitutes in his
body, in place of the thing that has been snatched away, a spiritual substance
of His own essence without incarnation. This spiritual substance, called the
Holy Spirit (Rith al-Quds), becomes an inalienable part of his self. God's
epiphany to man in this state means His epiphany to His own Self; we call
man slave, though, in reality, there is no distinction between Lord and slave.
When slave disappears, his logical correlate, Lord, must also disappear. The
true reality is God, the One. As al-Jili puts it, "In this sea of unity, the
creatures are like waves whieh, though many, are parts of the sea. If the
sea is in motion, it is all waves; when it is calm, there are neither waves nor
number (i.e., multiplicity)."
He enumerates several grades of this iUumination which different people
attain according to their inborn capacities and the magnitude of their know-
ledge or the power of their will. When a person is illumined by the divine
attribute of life, he feels that he is the sole source of life as manifested in all
the creatures in different proportions. Al-Jili says that when he was at this
stage he felt that he was life itself, one and indivisible.
When a mystic is illumined by the attribute of knowledge or sight, he
knows the reality of everything that was, is, and will be and sees everything,
even the unknown of the unknown (ghaib al-gkbib). When he is illumined by
the attribute of hearing, he hears the speech of every creature: minerals,
plants, animals, and angels.
Some receive the light of the attribute of speech (kalam). In this condition,
the recipient looks upon all existents as God's Word. Sometimes he hears the
Words of God without any veil of names, without any direction, without the
help of any bodily organ. This hearing of God's words cannot be described in
usual physical terms, for the ear does not play any part in it. In this state man
attains a very high position. He is addressed by God as His lover and beloved.
"You are My mouth among My people. You are My inmost secret and the
" Ibid., pp. 75-78.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
best reflection of My life. You are My name, My person (dhat), My attribute.
You are the epitome and the (final) object of existence and creation (huduth).
If there had been no Lord (Rabb), there would have been no slave. You
manifested Me as I manifested you. You brought Me into existence, as I
created you. If you had not been existent, I would not have been existent.
My lover, I am the (hidden) meaning of you and you are the (apparent) mani-
festation of Me."
A man who reaches this stage receives God's Word according to his capacity.
When carried to the Highest Tree (sidrat al-muntaha) he is addressed by
God. Then he sees light in the heart and is convinced by its very brilliance
that its source is God. He is told: "My friend, your I-ness (anly yah) is My
He-ness (hwmyyah). 'You' is identical with 'I.' Your simplicity is My com-
positeness and your compositeness is My simplicity. You are a point (centre)
round which the circle of existence revolves, and in that circle you are the
worshipper as well as the worshipped; you are the light, the manifestation,
the beauty."
Some are illumined by the divine attribute of will. At this stage the illumined
person sees that everything in the world is subject to his will. Some are
illumined by the attribute of power. At this stage, which al-Jili claims to
have reached himself, he heard the ringing of bells; bis whole physical body
seemed to have been torn asunder and his existence changed into non-being.
He experienced here darkness upon darkness till by the grace of God he was
relieved of all this and came upon light. At this stage the illumined one gets
extraordinary spiritual powers ; a thing comes into existence at his bidding.
The last stage is the illumination of the attribute of divinity (ilahlyyah),
where two contradictory positions seem to be reconciled and incorporated into
a higher synthesis. A person illumined by this light accepts all the religions
of the world as true and yet he looks upon all of them (including Islam) as
untrue ; for, according to him, all Muslims, believers, gnostics, and the righteous
ones are on the wrong path and he does not accept the opinion of any but
the perfect Sufi (muhaqqiq) as true. 65
4. Illumination of the essence. — When God reveals Himself to man through
this epiphany, man dies to himself and, in place of that, receives from
God a divine substance (hztlfah ilahlyyah) which is either attributive (sifati)
or essential (dhdti) . When this substance is essential, i. e., when man is illumined
by divine essence, he truly becomes a perfect man.* 6
Doctrine of Logos and the Perfect ifcm— According to al-Jili, there are three
metaphysical categories: (1) Absolute Being which is completely unknowable.
It is the essence above all kinds of determinations, relations, and modes. 67
(2) The reality viewed as Haqq, the aspect of He-ness or Divinity. (3) The
reality viewed as khalq, the aspect of I-ness, or humanity. Ultimate Reality
65 Ibid., pp. 7&-90.
•« Ibid., p. 93.
•» Ibid., p. 92.
Mahmiid g^abistari, al-Jili, and Jami
is One, but it appears in two different aspects of God and man (gaqq and
kkalq).* 9 Sometimes he expresses this doctrine in a form which most Western
writers (like Nicholson) construe to be the acceptance of the Christian doctrine
of Trinity. Al-Jili says, "Essence has two aspects: 'You' and T . . . 'You'
refers to your He-ness (humyyah) ; T refers to my reality . . . 'I,' as T-ness,
is God and 'You' in its creaturely aspect is man. You may look at your self
as 'I' or as 'You'; in reality, there is nothing here except the Universal
Reality." 69
Later on, al-Jili says, "In itself the essence is one. If you say it is one, it
is true. And if you say, it is two, then it is, as a matter of fact, two. If you
say, 'No, it is three,' you have spoken the truth." Explaining it further, he
says: "Look at His oneness (ahadiyyah) which is His essence and here He is
one (wahid) and unique. If you look at Him with regard to the two aspects
of Creator and creature, Lord and slave (Rabb and 'abd), He is two. And if
you look at His real nature and at that wherein two contraries are gathered
together, you will be amazed. You will not be able to call His loftiness lowly
and His lowliness lofty. You will have to fix a third name to illustrate His
nature which is characterized by the two attributes. This third thing is that
whose name is Ahmad with reference to the celestial sphere and Muhammad
with reference to the terrestrial sphere." 70 This is the doctrine of Logos or the
perfect man which he discusses in detail in the sixtieth chapter of his book.
The perfect man, according to him, is the Pole (Qutb) on which the sphere of
existence revolves from first to last. He has been one and unchangeable since
being came into existence. He is dressed in different ways and in each guise
he has a different name. His real name is Muhammad. In every age he has a
name which is most suitable for that time. Referring to his personal experience
he says that he had a chance of seeing him (i.e. Muhammad as a perfect man)
in the form of his Shaikh, Sharf al-Din al-Jabrati, at Zabid in 796/1393, though
he did not know at that time that he was Muhammad. The Holy Prophet,
as a matter of fact, in his capacity as the perfect man, has the power of assuming
different forms. When the mystic observes him in the form which he possessed
in his earthly life, he calls it the form of Muhammad. But when he (the mystic)
sees him in some other form, though he knows that it is in reality Muhammad,
he calls him by the name of the form in which he appears. The name Muhammad
applies to nothing except the reality of Muhammad (haqiqat al-Muhammadiy-
yah). Al-Jili is, however, very careful to point out that this is not the doctrine
of metempsychosis. Muhammad has the power, according to him, to manifest
himself in different forms and he has been appearing in the form of the per-
fect man in every age. Such perfect men are outwardly his (i.e., Muhammad's)
vicegerents, while inwardly he constitutes their essence. 701 At another place,
68 Ibid., p. 4.
69 Ibid., p. 8.
70 Ibid., p. 17.
70 « Ibid., pp. 260-61.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
al-Jili calls Muhammad as "the heaven and the earth and the length and the
breadth." 71
This basic reality of Muhammad is present in all people in proportion to their
inherent capacities. Saints and prophets all partake of it in different degrees,
while Muhammad alone possesses it in its fullness and, therefore, according to
al-Jili, nobody except he can be called a truly perfect man. 72 Different names
and attributes are manifested individually and separately in different saints
and prophets; but in the perfect man they are manifested in their totality.
The perfect man is the whole of reality in miniature; he is the microcosm
who combines in himself the inward and the outward aspects of reality. He
is the copy of God as a tradition of the Prophet says : "Allah created Adam
in the image of the Merciful," and, as another tradition asserts: "God created
Adam in His own image." God is living, knowing, mighty, willing, hearing,
seeing, and speaking and so is the perfect man. Then there is the perfect
man's he-ness (hwmyyah) as against God's He-ness (huwiyyah), I-ness (aniy-
yah) against I-ness, essence against essence, whole against whole, universal
against universal, particular against particular. 73 The microcosmic character
of the perfect man is further explained by al-Jili as follows: "The perfect
man in his essence represents all the realities of existence. In his spirituality
he corresponds to the spiritual realities and in his corporeality to the physical
realities. His heart corresponds to the Throne of God (al-'arsh), u his aniyyah
to the Heavenly Chair (kursi), 75 his mind to the Exalted Pen (al-qalam al-
a'la) 76 his soul to the Guarded Tablet (al-lauh al-mahfuz), 11 bis nature to
71 The terms "length" and "breadth" were first used by Hallaj for lahut (divinity)
and Tvasut (humanity) and later employed by ibn 'Arabi and al-Jili to denote the
two aspects Of the essence.
12 Al-Insan al-Ka.mil, pp. 253-54.
73 Ibid., p. 262.
74 l Arsk, according to ibn 'Arabi and al-Jili, signifies universal body. "It is the
theatre of majesty, the locus of tajalli and a characteristic of essence, and is known
as the place of that essence — a place which is devoid of all (spatial) reference."
Ibid., pp. 171-72.
75 Kursi, the Footstool under the divine Throne, "signifies the tajalli of all
(divine) attributes of action. The divine activity in manifesting the realities of
the universe looks first of all to kursi. At this stage the effects of contradictory
attributes are manifested in detail and the Word of God (divine amr) comes
into existence." Ibid., p. 173.
?« "The Exalted Pen means the first individualization of the creatures analy-
tically. First, the khalq is individualized in the divine consciousness generally and
without differentiation; at the stage of 'arsh, its being is synthetic and logical;
at the (third) stage of kursi, khalq is manifested analytically. At the (fourth) stage
of the Pen, its existence is differentiated. In the first three stages, this manifesta-
tion (of khalq) was in the Unseen (i.e., in God), while in the fourth stage, its
manifestation is made objective." Ibid., p. 174. See also p. 200: "The source of
knowledge of the first intelligence and of the Exalted Pen is the same light. When
it is referred to creatures, it is called the first intelligence, and when it is related
to Haqq, its name is the Exalted Pen."
77 Al-lavh al-mahfuz, according to al-Jili, stands for the universal soul. Ibid. , p. 176.
Mahmud SJiabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
physical elements, his potentialities to hayvla, etc., etc. In short, every faculty
of the perfect man corresponds to different manifestations in the physical
world." 78
According to al-Jili, there are three stages (barzakh) of development for
the perfect man. In the first stage called beginning (bada'ah) the perfect man
becomes endowed with divine names and attributes. In the intermediary
stage (tawassut) he is able to grasp both divine and human realities. When
he is able to acquire all that is possible to do at this stage, he gets knowledge
of all hidden things and becomes aware of the secrets of the unseen world.
In the third and final stage (khttdm) he acquires creative power and is given
full authority to manifest this power in the world of nature. "At this stage
there are only two things: he, the perfect man himself, and God the Great." 79
He is called "the guide" (al-mahdi) and the seal (al-khatam). He is the vice-
gerent to whom God refers in the story of Adam. All things are drawn towards
him in obeying his order as iron is attracted by the magnet. All the world is
subdued to his power and greatness, and he does what he wishes to do. Nothing
remains hidden from or unknown to him. The saint (i.e., the perfect man)
possesses the divine substance as simple essence (like God Himself) and is
not limited by any rank (martabah) of Creator and creature, 80 and as such he
is able to bestow on things what their nature demands without any let or
hindrance. 81
Saintship and Prophethood. — Al-Jili quotes Shaikh 'Abd al-Qadir on the
authority of ibn 'Arabi, "Oh prophets! you have been called prophets but
we have got something which you did not get." Another mystic says, "We
have dived in the river (of saintship) while the prophets are staying at its
banks." Al-Jili remarks that there is truth in these statements, but a prophet
as prophet is superior to a saint qua saint. 82
Al-Jili regards prophethood as a developed stage of saintship. The seventh
stage of the spiritual development is nearness (qurb) which he calls great
saintship (vnldyat al-kubra). It has four aspects. The first is friendship (khul-
lah), the position attained by Abraham. The second is love (hubb), where
Muhammad was given the rank of a lover of God (ftabtb Allah). The third is
78 Ibid., pp. 261-62.
7 » Ibid., pp. 263-64. Cf. ibn 'Arabi: "Only two beings rightly call themselves
God: God Himself who in His books calls Himself Allah and the perfect man
like Bayazid." See Affifi, op. cit., p. 78.
80 There is a stage of reality where the distinctions of Haqq and khalq appear,
but the perfect man is able to rise in his knowledge and experience above this
stage and attain to the Absolute Essence.
81 Al-Insan al-Kamil, p. 93.
82 Ibid., p. 153. Al-Jili distinguishes between saintship and prophethood as
follows: "When Adam was sent down to the earth, he was made a prophet, for
prophethood means legislation (tashrV) and imposing obligation (taklif) which
pertain to this earth. While in paradise Adam was a saint, for it is the place of
miracles and observation and this is saintship." Ibid., p. 308.
861
A History of Muslim Philosophy
finality fkhatam), the rank of Muhammad (maqam-i Muhammadi) where the
banner of Ahmad was hoisted for him. The last and fourth is the rank of
slavehood ('abdiyyah) where God called him by the name of slave ('abd).* 3
In this rank he was made a prophet and sent with a message to the people.
Other people who succeed in attaining this rank are only entitled to be called
slaves and they are the vicegerents of Muhammad on all planes (hadarah)
of existence. There are some saints who have undergone spiritual discipline
and attained perfection, but their objective is not the reform of the people.
Such saints are prophets, but their prophethood follows from that of Muham-
mad. They are his brothers about whom there is a reference in the following
tradition: "I have a great regard for those of my brethren who will come
after my death." These people are prophet-saints. The prophethood of these
saints, according to al-Jfli, is not institutional (taskri'i) but that of nearness,
propagation (of the message of the Holy Prophet), and enforcement of the
divine Law. These prophet-saints receive their prophetic knowledge directly,
i.e., from the same source from which the prophets derive their knowledge. 84
Al-Jfli draws a distinction between saintship (wilayah), prophecy of saint-
ship (nvbuwwat al-vrilayah), and prophecy of institution (nubuivwat al-tashri').
Saintship is a rank in which God reveals to a mystic His names and attri-
butes through knowledge, state, and power and, thus, becomes his protector
and friend (mutawaUi). In the prophecy of saintship, the perfect servant (al~
'aM al-kamil) is commanded by God to turn his attention to the people so
that he may reform them in the light of the divine Law towards a better
moral and spiritual life. He who performed this task before Muhammad was
an apostle (rasul) and he who undertook this work after him is his vicegerent,
but in his missionary work he has no independent status; he is the follower
of Muhammad, like such saints as Bayazid, Junaid, 'Abd al-Qadir Jilani, ibn
'Arabi, etc. He who enjoys an independent status and does not follow any
other prophet belongs to the rank of prophecy of institution, but this has
come to an end after the death of Muhammad.
Thus saintship represents a peculiar relation between the Lord and the
servant, prophecy of saintship is an aspect of the saint which is common
between the Creator and the creature ; prophecy of institution is an independent
and permanent assignment; apostleship is an aspect which refers to the relation
between the (Lord's) servant and the creatures.
A prophet is a saint as well as a prophet, but the aspect of his saintship
is superior to the aspect of his prophecy, though every prophet-saint is superior
to a saint. 86 According to al-Jfli, Muhammad is the final prophet because
he did not leave any wisdom, guidance, knowledge, and secret unexplained.
Whatever was necessary for the people to know and learn has been com-
83 Reference is to the Qur'anic verse (xvii, 1), "Glory be to Him who carried
His servant ('abdihi} by night from the Holy Mosque to the Remote Mosque."
84 Al-Insan al-Kamil, pp. 31&-20.
ss Ibid., pp. 320-21.
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
municated by him. No Sufi saint can know or experience anything which was
not experienced by him and, therefore, he cannot but follow him. "After
Muhammad institutional prophethood came to an erid." 88
Psychology.— Qalb.— The term "heart" (qalb) is very often used by the
mystics as the repository of the innermost secrets of divine knowledge. It is
definitely not the physical organ of the human body but a symbolical term
for the rational or spiritual aspect of man. Following ibn 'Arabi, al-Jili identifies
it with the spirit of God which, according to the Qur'an, was breathed into
Adam (xv, 29).
The heart (qdlb) is the eternal light which was revealed in the essence
Cain) of existents (i.e., in Muhammad or the perfect man), so that God may
see man through it. It is the centre of God's consciousness and the circum-
ference of the circles of all existents. It symbolizes that which is described in
the Qur'an as the light (xxiv, 35). It reflects all the divine names and attri-
butes and yet at times it directs its attention to some particular name and
then becomes a complete reflection of it.
The true nature of the heart is divine and pure. 87 But due to animal passions
sometimes it loses this purity which, however, can be recovered after a period
of physical and spiritual training, the duration of which varies according to
the degree of the influence of the animal passions. Al-Jili holds that certain
men of eminence subjected themselves to a rigorous mystic discipline as a
result of which they received divine illumination as a right and not as a
favour. In his support he quotes a verse of Shaikh 'Abd al-Qadir Jilani who
says, "I continued grazing in the fields of ridd' (submission to God's will) and
attained a rank which was the result not of God's favour (but of my own
efforts)."
Qalb is like a mirror to the realities of Being or it may be called the reflection
of the universe. God says, "The sky and the earth do not contain Me; it is
only the heart of My believing servant which can contain Me." This statement,
according to al-Jili, proves that the heart is primary and the universe is only
God's comprehension by the heart is of three kinds: (a) By knowledge.
Heart alone is able to comprehend and know God as He is. Other things can
and do know God either in one or other of His aspects, but heart alone can
know Him in all-comprehensiveness, (b) By observation (mushdhadah).
Through this seeing (kashf) the heart observes the beauties of the face of
Allah and enjoys the taste of His names and attributes, (c) By vicegerency.
At this stage, man becomes a complete embodiment of divine names and
86 Ibid., p. 144. The qualifying word "institutional" implies that prophethood
of the other type is still possible and, thus, on p. 320 he explicitly says that
nubuivwat al-wilayah will continue.
87 "Names and attributes form the nature of the heart." Ibid., p. 193. He
argues from the Qur'anic verse (xcv, 4): "We indeed created man in the fairest
mould."
863
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
attributes so much so that he feels his essence to be identical with divine
essence. He then become God's vicegerent.
Reason. — There are three kinds of reason: The first intelligence ('aql
al-awiml), universal reason ('aql al-hrtli), and ordinary reason ('aql al-ma'ash).
The first intelligence is the locus of the form of divine knowledge in existence
and as such it is identical with the Exalted Pen. It contains explicitly and
analytically what is contained implicitly and synthetically in divine conscious-
ness. It is the fight of divine knowledge which became the first manifestation
of the essence in the phenomenal world. 88
Universal reason is the luminous percipient in which those forms of know-
ledge are made manifest which are deposited in the first intelligence. Al-Jili
rejects the view of those who regard universal reason as the sum of reasons
of all rational beings, for reason is a unit and a substance.
Ordinary reason is a light which is judged and measured by the laws of
reflection. Its sphere of activity is confined only to one of the several aspects
of the universal reason; it has no access to the first intelligence which is
beyond logical inferences and is the sphere where sacred revelation takes
place. Ordinary reason has only one scale, i.e., of nature, while universal
reason has two scales, i.e., of wisdom and power, with the result that knowledge
gained through the latter is infallible and covers almost everything, while
knowledge gained through ordinary reason is of limited scope, fallible, and
is mostly of the nature of conjecture. He relates the three reasons as follows :
the first intelligence is like the sun, universal reason is like water which
reflects the rays of the sun, while the ordinary reason is like the reflection of
water which falls on a wall. 89
Judgment (Wahm). — The wahm of Muhammad was created by God from
His perfect light and, therefore, it was manifested in the phenomenal world
in a perfect form. Wahm is the strongest faculty possessed by man because it
overpowers reason, reflection, and imagination. It has, thus, the greatest
capacity for (intellectual) apprehension and preservation. It has power and
influence over all existence. It is through it that an intellectual person is able
to acknowledge God and worship Him. It is the fight of certitude and anyone
who is able to attain supremacy over it becomes the master of the two
universes, terrestrial and spiritual. But he who is overpowered by it becomes
subject to darkness and bewilderment. 90
Himmah is concentration of mind upon an object. It corresponds to what
is usually called will or power of will. It is a very powerful faculty which,
88 "From the first intelligence which is referred to as the Principle of Muhammad,
God created Gabriel. Thus, Muhammad in this sense becomes the father of Gabriel
and the source and ground of the whole universe. The First Intelligence is called
al-Ruh al-Amin (the Truthful Spirit) because it is the storehouse of divine
knowledge and its protector." Ibid., p. 200.
89 Ibid., pp. 197-200.
»° Ibid., pp. 200-06.
864
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jami
according to al-Jili, is always busy in the contemplation of God. If anybody
decides to attain a particular objective and concentrates his will upon its
attainment, he is sure to succeed in his aim. There are two necessary conditions
for success, (a) determination in thought about the possibilities of the success
or otherwise of the objective and then a conviction about the result, and
(b) concentration of all effort on its achievement. If anybody fails to mani-
fest this type of activity, he has no chance of success. In the beginning one
encounters great difficulties and hindrances but, once they are overcome, man
is on the verge of conquest of his self as well as of the physical universe.
Al-Jili makes a distinction between will (himmah) and attention (hamm).
The object of the former is God and the spiritual world, while that of the
latter is the physical world and pursuits related to it. But for a mystic it is
not proper to stay at the stage of attention for long, because after some time
it becomes a hindrance to future progress. 91
Reflection (Fikr). — It is a key to the Unseen. According to al-Jili, there
are two methods of approaching the Unseen: (a) pertaining to God, which is
attained through divine names and attributes; (b) pertaining to the world
which depends on realizing the true nature of man, all of whose aspects are
ranged against the aspects of the Merciful. One of these aspects is reflection
by which we can peep into the mysteries of the Unseen. When a man is able
to attain perfection in the exercise of reflection, he sees spiritual objects in a
physical garb. This ascent ('uruj) is of two kinds: (a) One kind of ascent is
achieved by traversing the path chalked out by the Merciful. The man who
adopts it is on the straight path and attains creative powers, (b) The second
kind of ascent is the "red magic" which is involved in thought and imagination
and in which truth and falsehood are mixed together. It is the path of specu-
lative thought which lands man in the morass of uncertainty and doubt. 92
But it does not imply that the exercise of reflection should be condemned
outright. Al-Jili admits that reflection has the potentiality of leading men
astray from the right path, but he also suggests certain principles by following
which it is possible for men to benefit from the light of reflection and save
themselves from its pitfalls and darkness. The first principle, according to him,
is reason ('aql), which is in perpetual quest, as well as the acquired experience
the veracity of which has been testified by men in their mystic life. The second
is naql, i.e., knowledge gained through a study of the Qur'an and Tradition,
by which a man comes to believe in the reality of the Unseen. But if a man
refuses to follow these principles and gives himself over to purely discursive
reason, he is sure to be led astray. 93
91 Ibid., pp. 206-10.
93 Al-Jili relates that he himself was submerged in this path of speculative philo-
sophy and this was due only to the spiritual influence of his teacher, al-Jabarti, who
was staying with a group of mystics in Zabid in 779/1377 at the house of one
Shihab al-Dln Ahmad. Ibid., pp. 212-13.
93 Ibid., pp. 210-14.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
The Self (Nafs). — According to al-Jili, as the title of chapter fifty-nine
illustrates, self is the origin of the Lucifer (Iblls) and other evil powers. But
it does not imply that the origin of the self itself is evil, for, as al-Jili says,
its origin is the spirit itself of Muhammad. "The self of Muhammad was
created by God out of His own Self and the self of Adam was made a copy
of the self of Muhammad." Later on, he says, "Allah created the self of
Muhammad from His own essence and as His essence is the unity of two
contraries, two contraries emanated from Him."
Satan was cursed for his act of disobedience but this curse, according to
al- jili, consisted in removing him from divine presence. The period of this
separation is limited to the Day of Judgment after which he will be reunited
with the divine presence. Thus, according to al-Jili, self is spiritual in origin
and does not represent any evil power which is antagonistic to the forces of
good. "The self is the inmost secret of the Lord and (a part of) His essence
on account of which it has delights. It was created out of the light of attributes
of Lordship and, therefore, possesses lordly qualities." Al-Jili, therefore,
identifies self with the soul which was breathed into Adam and enumerates
the following five stages of the development of the soul on the path of
spiritual progress: —
(1) The animal soul is an aspect of the soul which governs the body.
(2) The evil-prompting soul (nafs al-ammarah) is that aspect by which the
soul is engrossed in fulfilling the demands of passions and, thus, becomes
indifferent to divine commandments and prohibitions.
(3) The inspired soul is that aspect by which human soul is directed and
guided by God to do good action.
(4) The self-reproaching soul is that aspect by which man is engaged in
subduing his inclinations and passions and in turning his attention to
God.
(5) The tranquil soul is that aspect because of which all evil inclinations
are totally removed and man feels satisfied with God.
But beyond these five stages, there is a final stage where body is completely
under the control of the soul and partakes of the knowledge of the Unseen
and is able to fly over the earth, etc. At this stage man is characterized by
God's attributes and becomes identical with His essence. 94
Religion. — A theory of life which is based on pantheism ends in a con-
ception of religion which is universal. As the unity of Godhead is manifested
in the multiplicity of divine names and attributes, so the basic urge of man
to worship God takes various forms all of which are equally valid and right.
He argues his case on the basis of certain verses of the Qur'an and traditions.
He holds that all existent things are created for the purpose of divine worship.
1 Ibid., pp. 292-93.
Mahmud Shabistari, al-Jili, and Jfimi
Everything by its state and activity, nay by its very nature and attributes,
actually does worship God and, therefore, all existents are servants or wor-
shippers of God. The forms of worship, however, due to differences in the
nature of names and attributes, are different. Though humanity was originally
and by nature one, yet due to differences resulting from the manifestations
of diverse names, people adopted various pathways towards God — pathways
which appeared right to the people and which God had decreed for them;
for none follows a path except that which He wishes them to follow and all
paths are undoubtedly paths leading to Him as the following verse of the
Qur'an indicates: "There is no living creature but He has it in His control"
(xi, 56).
Death is the extinguishing of the vital heat, while life is the soul's con-
centration on the body. The life of the body is maintained only so long as
the soul continues to look at it. After death, the soul assumes a bodily form
appropriate to it in accordance with the place it occupies. Some mystics
wrongly deny resurrection of the body. Al-Jili believes on the basis of his
personal experience and observation that bodies along with souls shall be
resurrected. 96
The stage intermediate between death and resurrection (barzakh) is an
incomplete and non-permanent stage of life after death. It is a world of
phantasy. There the people will meet with the forms appropriate to their
actions. If a man had been doing good actions, he would experience different
forms and shapes of these actions which would carry him progressively to
better states. Similarly, an evil-doer would experience torments which will
gradually increase in their intensity.
Al-Jili enumerates eight different levels of paradise the last of which,
called the lauded station (maqdm al-mahmud), is meant for none but
Muhammad. It is the paradise of the essence. Similarly, he describes seven
different grades or levels of hell.
But after giving a graphic description of hell and heaven, al-Jili denies
their existence as separate localities. As the epiphanies of the Lord, they are
on an equal level ; the inmates of hell will receive tidings of punishment as
the people of paradise will receive tidings of reward. 96 Hell is nothing but
the natural darkness which is fire. 97 In the fifty-ninth chapter he discusses in
detail the nature of Iblls and his manifestations and yet he asserts that Iblis
is not an individual; it is only the personification of the evil aspect of man's
nature. 98
He tries to explain away the usual significance and nature of fire in hell.
God will create in the people thrown into hell the power to bear punishment
94 Ibid., pp. 272-73.
96 Ibid., p. 224.
9 ' Ibid., p. 243.
98 Ibid., p. 239.
867
i
L
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and, thus, this punishment will change into pleasure." But even then this
so-called punishment in hell will not last for ever.
Al-Jili thinks that the beatific vision is the manifestation of God's tajalli
and His nearness is not confined to the people of paradise or the so-called
next world. Every individual, here in this life and in life after death, whether
he is placed in hell or in paradise, continually receives God's tajalli; as a
matter of fact, his existence is all due to it. 100
According to al- Jili, God's will is absolutely free from external restraints ;
His actions are not determined by causes and conditions. 101 Man, on the
other hand, according to him, is completely determined in his action. 102 He
says that revealed books demand obedience, while people as a matter of fact
act as they are determined by their nature. Freedom of choice (ikhitiyar) is
attributed to them only formally so that God's way to man may be justified. 103
God's decree, according to al-Jlli, is of two kinds. One is unchangeable and
in conformity with the demands of the divine attributes and as such is not
subject to change. The other kind of decree is that which takes place according
to the law of nature as demanded by the inherent capacity of the existents.
Decrees of the latter type sometimes do not come to pass due to the contingent
character of the things of the world.
Al-Jili subscribes to the doctrine that Being as Being is good and evil is
only relative and apparent. With regard to the Real, there is no distinction
between good and evil, for everything without any distinction is the mani-
festation of the divine beauty and is as such good. Evil or defect in the
phenomenal world is only due to certain relations. Fire is evil for a person
who is burnt but is good for the insect who lives in it and gets nourishment
from it. In short, there is nothing in this world which is absolutely evil. 104
Al-Jili holds that what is called sin or disobedience is in one respect obedience,
for it is in conformity with God's will. He upholds the distinction between
God's will and His command as enunciated by ibn 'Arabi. Sometimes an
action takes place in full conformity with God's will, though His command
may be against its occurrence. In such a situation man is disobedient with
regard to His command but obedient with regard to His will. This point of
69 He relates his personal experience of seeing people at a particular level of
hell who were subject to a most severe form of punishment. But even in this
condition they refused to accept the offer of paradise with disdain, implying that
the nature of punishment was such that it could be preferred to the so-called
blessings in paradise. Ibid., pp. 230-31. In another place he says that there are
many people in hell who are better in the eyes of God than many people of the
paradise. See p. 232. Also pp. 45, 103, 224, 225.
"• Ibid., p. 134.
101 Ibid., Chaps. 17, 18.
102 Ibid., p. 34. He argues, like other Muslim pantheists, from the Qur'anic verse
(xxxvii, 96): "Allah had created you and what you make," interpreting ta'malun
as "what you do."
103 Ibid., p. 108.
1M Ibid., p. 114.
Mahmud ghabistari, al- Jili, and Jami
view affects al-Jili's treatment of Satan's role. God rebuked him for his dis-
obedience but he neither repented nor bewailed nor tried to seek forgiveness,
for only that comes to pass which is according to God's will.
Al-Jili enumerates seven stages in spiritual progress. The first is what he
calls Islam which covers five principles: declaration of God's unity and
Muhammad's prophethood, prayer, fasting, poor-tax, and pilgrimage.
The second stage is faith (Imdn). It is the first manifestation of the world
of the Unseen and implies heart's acceptance of the truth thus revealed. It
is something different from reason. Faith is not belief in a fact arrived at
through discursive reasoning but acceptance without rational argumentation.
Light of faith is superior to the light of reason. Kalam (scholastic theology)
was invented to defend religion against unbelievers and innovators (ahl al-
bid'ah). It never helps in producing faith in a person.
The third stage is called piety (salah) which results in good actions. But
the motive is desire for divine rewards and safety from punishment. A person
at this stage leads a life of obedience to the laws of the Shari'ah for the sake
of his self.
The fourth stage is called ihsdn where one observes the effects of divine
names and attributes. Such a person does good actions not for the sake of
his own self nor for rewards, but for his love for God.
The fifth stage is martyrdom (shadMah) which is of two kinds. The lower
grade represents the death of a person in an epidemic or on a journey or in
the battle-field for a righteous cause. The higher grade of martyrdom is to see
the Real in every existent.
The sixth stage is called siddiqiyyah which is signified by the mystic saying :
He who knows his self knows the Lord. This stage has three different planes.
The first is faith through knowledge or reason (Him al-yaqin). The second is
faith through personal experience and mystic kashf fain al-yaqin). The third
is true and perfect faith (jiaqq al-yaqin). The mystic who has attained this
stage of siddiqiyyah passes through all these planes of faith. In the first, he
sees the Unseen and is able to observe with the light of faith those secret
realities which are not open to the common people. Here he attains fana,' and
then reaches the stage of baqa' where he receives the tajalli of all divine names
one after the other. He perceives the essence through names. This is the final
plane of Him al-yaqin. In the next plane, i.e., of 'ain al-yaqin, he receives illumi-
nation from the divine attributes one by one until he feels himself one with
the Real in Its aspect of attributes. He progresses gradually till names and
attributes lose their significance for him. He attains gnosis of the essence and
through it he is able to understand the operation of names and attributes.
He now knows the essence through the essence. Thus, he reaches the third
and the highest plane, i.e., of haqq al-yaqin, which is the first step in the
seventh stage of nearness (qurb).
Here man is able to manifest in his person different attributes of the Real,
though this manifestation cannot be total and absolute. A person who is able
A History of Muslim Philosophy
to bring a dead man to life, for instance, is manifesting a particular attribute
of God, though in a limited form. He stands in nearness to God. The first step
in this stage is the station of friendship where he is able to create through the
word "Be" (kun) after the manner of God. In the words of a tradition, "God
becomes the ears by which he hears, the eyes by which he sees, the tongue
by which he speaks, the hands by which he holds, the feet by which he walks."
The second step in this stage is the station of love where the lover and the
beloved become one and where the one represents the other. The last step
in this stage is the station of khitdm where the individual is characterized by
the essence (Jiaqiqah) of the Real. This station is beyond the reach of ordinary
mortals.
C
JAMI
'Abd al-Rahman Jami (817-898/1414-1492), a famous poet and great
scholar, was the follower of ibn 'Arabi. His book, Lawa'ih, (Flashes), is an
exposition of the doctrine of the Unity of Being. In the preface he states that
this doctrine is the result of mystic experience of several eminent saints, but
his role is that of a mere interpreter, for he has not undergone or experienced
any mystic trances. He has only put in words what others had experienced
at first hand. 106
His statement of the theory follows the logical definition of the word
"existence." Existence (or Being) is sometimes used as a universal concept
which in logic is called "secondary concept" (ma'qul-i tkamyyah) and has no
objective reality corresponding to it but which attaches itself to the quiddity
(mahiyyah) of a thing mentally. Taking Being in this sense, several critics
have raised an objection against ibn 'Arabi's statement that God is the
Absolute Being. According to them, abstract existence having no objective
reaHty cannot be said to be the source of external reality. Jami, therefore,
tries to defend ibn 'Arabi by saying that Being or existence has another sense.
When pantheists use the word "Being" (ivujvd), they refer to reality which
exists by itself, and on which depends the existence of other beings. As a
matter of fact, none exists except He and all objective existents are His modes. 106
But the truth of this statement, according to Jami, is verifiable not so much
through reason as through mystic experience and intuition. The Absolute
Being is called God who is the source of all that exists and yet is above all
multiplicity. He transcends all manifestations and is unknowable. 107
105 Lawa'ih, Newal Kishore Press, Lucknow (India), 1936, p. 4.
106 He subscribes to ibn 'Arabi's doctrine that the universe is nothing but
accidents, all pertaining to a single substance, i. e., the Ultimate Being. He tries to
give rational arguments in its support. See Lawa'ih 18 and 26.
107 Lawa'ih 13, 14,
870
Mahmud ghabistari, al-Jlli, and Jami
Essence pure and simple is completely without any determinations and is
above the distinctions of names, attributes, and relations. It is only when
this essence descends towards manifestation that attributes such as know-
ledge, light, and existence make their appearance. The essence is above all
determinations but it is only when God is viewed by our human and finite
intellect that He is said to possess attributes.
Following ibn 'Arabi he rejects the Ash'arite theory of divine attributes
according to which attributes subsist in and are co-eternal with God, and
yet are neither identical with nor different from Him. In "Flash" (Lcfifuih)
fifteen, Jami explains that attributes are distinct from the essence in thought
but are identical with it in fact and reality. God is knower due to the attribute
of knowledge, powerful due to the attribute of power, active due to the attribute
of willing, etc. There is no doubt that as these attributes are different from one
another with regard to their content, they are similarly distinct from the
essence. But in reality they are all identical with the essence in the sense
that in Him there is no plurality of existence.
The Ultimate Reality, i.e., God, is the ground of everything that exists.
He is one so that multiplicity cannot affect Him. But when He reveals Him-
self in multiplicity of forms and modes, He appears to be many. These
distinctions of one and many, however, are only subjective. God and the
world are two aspects of the same reality. "The universe is the outward
(expression) of God and God is the inner (reality) of the universe. Before
manifestation the world was God and God after manifestation is identical
with the world." As a matter of fact reality is one, and the dual aspects of
God and the world are only our ways of looking at it. 108
The nature of things in the universe in relation to the Absolute is like
modes which Jami, following ibn 'Arabi, calls shu'un; they have no existence
or reality in themselves and are mere adjectives of the One Being. 109 These
modes are included in the Absolute as qualities inhere in a substance or as a
consequent follows from its ground— as half, third, and fourth, and other
fractions are related to the integer one; these fractions are potentially included
in the integer one and become explicit only when repeated. 110 It is clear that
the conception of creation as commonly understood is irrelevant. Creation in
the theological sense is not the actualization of the hidden potentialities of
the Creator, but the production of individuals and things which, though
deriving their existence from this source, yet enjoy self-determination and
independence to some extent. According to Jami, Creator and creatures are
two aspects of the same reality.
This subjective determination, according to Jami, has two stages. In the
first stage called martabah-i 'ilmi, these existents appear in divine knowledge
108 La'ihah 25.
10 * See La'ihah 26 where Jami tries to explain certain statements of ibn 'Arabi
as discussed in Fass al- ghu'aiMyyah.
110 La'ihah 19. "
871
A History of Muslim Philosophy
in the form of archetypal ideas (a'ydn-i ihabitah). In the second stage called
rank of the physical world (martabah-i 'ain), they acquire the attributes and
properties of external existence. "In short, there is nothing in the external
world except one reality which appears to be many on account of being clothed
in diverse modes and attributes." 111
As essence, the Real is beyond all knowledge; neither revelation nor reason
can help anyone to comprehend it. No mystic saint can ever claim to experience
Him as such. "His highest characteristic is the lack of all characterization
and the end of all knowledge about Him is bewilderment." 112 The first stage
of the descent is afyadiyyah which is a bare unity devoid of all modes and
relations. When it is conditioned by these modes, it is called al-wahdiyyah
where the Real is characterized by manifestation, etc. It is at this stage that
He assumes the attributes of being the Creator and Sustainer and is charac-
terized by life, knowledge, and will. It is at this stage also that the existents
first appear in the consciousness of God as the objects of His knowledge, but
they do not involve multiplicity in the One. At a later stage these objects
of God's knowledge are clothed in existence and they assume multiplicity.
They all exhibit in varying degrees some of the divine names and attributes.
The perfect men like prophets alone reflect all these names and attributes. 113
But in spite of all these manifestations and splitting of the One into multi-
plicity, the unity remains unimpaired. It causes no change in the essence or
in its attributes. "Although the light of the sun illuminates at once the clean
and the unclean, yet it does not affect the purity of its light." 114
Though the one essence is interfused in all existents, its presence in them
does not mean that everything is equal in this respect. There are differences
of degree due to the power of receptivity of each thing. No doubt God and the
world are two aspects of the Real, yet God is God and the world is world.
"Every grade of Being is determined according to its rank. If you ignore this
distinction, you become an infidel." 115
In ethics Jami follows the usual pantheistic tradition and advocates full-
fledged determinism. As God is the essence of all things and is the inward aspect
of the world, all actions that are usually ascribed to man should, as a matter
of fact, be attributed to the Real. But if man is so determined, then how to
account for evil ? Jami here again follows ibn 'Arabi. It is true, he says, that
all actions of men are God's, yet it is not proper for us to attribute evil to
God, for Being qua Being is absolute good. According to him, therefore, evil
has no positive content; it is privative, lacking something which should
have been there. Take, for instance, the case of cold. There is nothing evil
111 La'ihah 18.
1M La'ihah 24.
118 La'ihah 17. See also La'ihah 24,
elaborated.
114 La'ihah 20.
115 La'ihah 23.
rhere the idea of One's descent is further
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi
in it as such, but with reference to the fruits which it does not allow to ripen,
it becomes evil. 116
The ultimate goal of man should be not only fund', passing away of con-
sciousness, but fana'-i fand', passing away of the consciousness of having
attained the state of fand'. At this stage, an individual loses not only
awareness of self but also awareness of this "non-awareness of self." Then,
according to Jami, faith, religion, belief, or kashf (mystic knowledge and
experience) all become meaningless. 117
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Mahmud gh,abistari, Ghdshan-i Raz; 'Abd al-Karim al-Jili, al-Insan al-Kamil,
Urdu translation by Fadal Miran, Lahore; Jami, Lawd'ih, lithographed edition,
Lucknow, India, 1936; Whinfield, English translation of Ghdshan-i Raz, London;
English translation of Jamfs Lawd'ih, London; Iqbal, The Development of Meta-
physics in Persia, Lahore; Lahiji, Sharh-i Qvlshan-i Raz, Lahore; R. A. Nicholson,
Studies in Islamic Mysticism, London; Affifi, The Mystical Philosophy of Muhytd
Din-Ibnul 'Arabi, Cambridge; ibn al-'Arabi, Fusus al-Hikam, Urdu translation,
Lucknow, 1927; Encyclopaedia of Islam.
"• La'ihah 30.
117 Lawd'ih 8 and 9.
Chapter XLIV
SHAIKH AHMAD SIRHINDI
LIFE AND STUDIES
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi, better known as Mujaddid Alf Thani, was the son
of Shaikh 'Abd al-Ahad Makhdum, who was a devout Muslim always
anxious to derive spiritual enlightenment from saints. Shaikh 'Abd al-Ahad
Makhdum met Shaikh Allah Dad at Ruhtas and Sayyid 'Ali Qawam at Jaun-
pur. He learnt a great deal from both and then returned to Sirhind and lived
there till his death in 1007/1598. A great master of all the branches of con-
temporary knowledge, he taught the prevalent text-books on philosophy and
religion to his pupils intensively. He was also an acknowledged authority on
jurisprudence. Besides, he taught mysticism to those who were eager to learn
it, using 'Awdrif al-Ma'drif and Fusus al-Hikam as his texts. He was an ardent
reader of ibn 'Arabi and was an authority on his teachings. He acknowledged
ibn 'Arabi's superiority in philosophy and spiritual insight, but he never
followed him if he found him deviating from the Sunnah. He was such an
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
ardent and close follower of the Holy Prophet and his teachings that he never
left a sunnah (tradition) unpractised. He loved the devotees of Khwajah
Baha' al-Din Naqshband of Bukhara called the Naqshbandls, 1 and his son
inherited thia love and devotion to them from him.
Shaikh Ahmad was born in 971/1563 at Sirhind. His name was Ahmad
and his surname was Badr al-Din. From his father's side, he descended from
the Caliph 'Umar. In his early childhood he was sent to a school where in a
short time he learnt the Holy Qur'an by heart. Then for a long time he was
taught by his father. Later he went to Sialkot and there covered some more
courses under the guidance of Kamal Kashmiri. He also studied some works
on Hadith from Ya'qub Kashmiri, a great scholar of the time. By the young
age of seventeen he had mastered a great deal of Islamic sciences and had
begun teaching them to others.
He visited Agra where he met some great men of learning including abu
al-Fadal and Faidi. After some time he accompanied his father to Sirhind.
On his way home, he was married to the daughter of a noble named Shaikh
Sultan of Thanesar. On his return to Sirhind he stayed with his father
and through his help established spiritual relationship with the Qadriy-
yah and Chishtiyyah schools of mysticism. Through the training received from
his father, he learnt the fundamentals of Sufism. In his studies too he had
been much influenced by his father. He could not go on a pilgrimage to the
Holy Land in his father's life-time, although he yearned to do so. He was
anxious to serve his father during his life and could not leave him alone.
After his father's death in 1007/1598 he started on this long-cherished pil-
grimage. On his arrival at Delhi, he heard of the reputation of Khwajah
Baqi Billah as a saint from a friend, Maulana Hasan. He went to him promptly
and was well received. The Khwajah inquired of him about his intended
pilgrimage and then desired him to stay with him for a week or so. He was
so much impressed by the spiritual attainments of the Khwajah that he made
up his mind to become his disciple. The Khwajah was very fastidious in taking
anyone as his disciple but he immediately accepted the Mujaddid as his follower
and focussed his entire attention upon him. The Mujaddid's heart became the
seat of the praise of Allah and he made rapid progress in spiritual knowledge.
Under the Khwajah's guidance he was able to complete his Naqshbandi
training in a few months. He was warmly congratulated and was invested
with a gown as a symbol of the completion of his training. He went back to
Sirhind and began to teach people. After the Khwajah's death he used to
go to Delhi at the 'urs 2 of his late chief.
1 Devotees of Khwajah Baha* al-Din Naqshband of Bukhara are called the
Naqshbandls.
2 'Urs, a gathering to celebrate the death anniversary of a holy man.
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi
THE SHARI'AH
An important period of his life is that between 1028/1618 and 1032/1622.
One year of this period was spent in the prison of Gwalior and the other
three with the Emperor Jahangir and his army. His increasing popularity
aroused the jealousy of his rivals who poisoned the ears of the Emperor
and reported him to be dangerous both to the Emperor and the State. The
Emperor had faith only in the ascetics and hermits. He could not tolerate
a widely popular Sufi in his land. Perhaps Asaf Jah and some other nobles
had a hand in this intrigue against the Mujaddid. The matter was worsened
still by his refusal to bow before the Emperor on the ground that it
was against the tenets of Islam, with the result that he was imprisoned
at Gwalior. He was released a year later, but he had to stay for a further
period of three years with the army as a detenu. Two years before his
death he was allowed to go to his home at Sirhind. There he died on the
morning of 28th Safar 1034/lOth December 1624.
Some hold that the Shaikh's release was due to the fact that the Emperor
had at last become his disciple and had repented of his action of the previous
year, but others hold that the above view is not borne by facts.
It was the crying need of the time that there should appear a man who
might have the boldness to oppose the worship of the Emperor by refusing to
bow before him, and, thus, revive the true spirit of Islam and extirpate heresy.
He fearlessly faced the displeasure of an absolute monarch and chose to go
into imprisonment rather than renounce his own beliefs and principles. He
stood firm as a rock against the tide of the Mughul heresy introduced by the
Emperor's father, Akbar the Great. He is called the Mujaddid because he
started the movement of purifying Islam and restored its traditional ortho-
doxy. His courageous stand against anti- Islamic practices resulted in a religious
renaissance in India. The method adopted by him to achieve his purpose was
equally bold. He trained groups of disciples and sent them to all the Muslim
countries and to the various cities of India to propagate what he regarded
as the true spirit of Islam. He especially asked them to make people realize
the importance of the Sunnah and prepare them to counteract the forces of
heresy and to observe and to make others observe the tenets of Islam. His
letters to the great men of the Muslim world was given wide publicity. In
them he discussed problems connected with Islam and its revival. He pressed
the people to follow the Sunnah rigidly and to uproot heresy. He brought
numerous noblemen and courtiers to his fold, and in this way tried to change
the attitude of the Emperor and his Court.
The Mujaddid strictly adhered to religious practices as sanctioned by the
Holy Prophet and was very hard upon those who coined excuses to violate
them. He was an authority on Fiqh and Tradition. His knowledge was encyclo-
pedic and he was endowed with critical insight in matters of religion. His
875
A History of Muslim Philosophy
views on mystical revelation and illumination, pantheism, predestinarianism,
sectarianism, and Sufism are very important. Shaikh Ahmad's reforms can
be easily divided into three categories: (1) call to the Muslims to follow
the Sunnah and discard heresy (bid'ah), (2) purification of Islamic mysticism
(Sufism) from the practices and thoughts which had crept into it through
non-Muslim influences, and (3) great emphasis on the Islamic Law.
1. Heresy and the Mujaddid's Opposition to It. — Heresy implies an innova-
tion. The 'ulama' (theologians) had divided it into two categories, namely, the
good innovation (bid'at-i hasnah) and the bad innovation (bid'at-i sayyi'ah).
The Mujaddid says he can find no beauty, benefit, or light in either. In many
of his letters he is at pains to tell his correspondents that all heresy is repre-
hensible. He quotes many sayings of the Holy Prophet in denouncing it.
He symbolizes every kind of heresy with dust, dirt, and pitch darkness and
regards it as misleading. Those who practise heresy do so for lack of foresight
and insight. The Holy Prophet said that heresy misleads people and uproots the
Sunnah itself. When a heresy creeps into religion, it deprives the believers of
traditional practice. He was of the opinion that Islam is complete in itself;
heresy is a useless appendage to it. Even if it appears right, it is in fact a
blot on the fair face of Islam. Any approval of a heresy is a disavowal
of the completeness of Islam. In the course of time, the Sunnah would
disappear, and heresy would prosper. Respect shown to an upholder of heresy
is to deal a blow to Islam. Heresy is a cutting axe to religion, and the Sunnah
is a guiding star. To strengthen Islam heresy must be uprooted. "May it
please the Lord," said he, "to show to the 'ulama' that no heresy is good."
2. Reforms in Sufism and the Nature of Sufistic Perfection. — "If the con-
temporary Sufis are just, they should not follow their leaders but the Sunnah.
They should never uphold heresy on the pretext that their Shaikhs did so." 3
If a heresy appears in the guise of an inspiration, it is immediately accepted
by the people as a long lost truth. For long the conversations and commen-
taries of the Sufis had been tending away from the religious Law (SharVah)
and a time came in the history of Sufism when the Sufis began to proclaim that
Sufism and the religious Law were poles apart. They did not show the respect
that the Law deserves. They regarded it as formal and ineffective and, as
a result, religion and its values suffered much at their hands, though very
few knew the harm that was being done. This attitude of the Mujaddid elicited
an unqualified praise from Iqbal for him. Speaking of him he says, "He was
the guardian of the Muslim faith in India whom God had given a timely
warning."
The Mujaddid said, "The Shaikhs who in their state of insensibility (sukr)
praise infidelity and induce men to wear the Brahmanical thread 4 are to be ex-
cused because then they are not themselves. Those who follow them consciously
! Maktubat-i Mujaddid, Book II, Letter No. 23.
1 A thread worn by the Brahmans round the neck.
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi
in these matters are not to be excused because they do so while they are in
their senses." 5 The rectitude of speculative knowledge depends on its being in
concord with theology, and the smallest departure from it is insensibility.
According to him, someone asked Khwajah Naqshband to define the Sufistic
institution. He replied that the ultimate end of Sufism is achieved when
the rational knowledge becomes revelational or inspired, and the abstract
becomes concrete. He did not say that we should seek something over and
above the revealed Law. The non-essentials that a Sufi meets on his way to
Sufistic perfection lose their importance when he reaches his destination. The
Law alone is then seen as real. The Prophet received it through a messenger
but the Sufis get it by direct inspiration from God. 6
The Caliph 'Umar was highly incensed when he was told that Shaikh 'Abd
al-Kabir Yamani was of the view that Allah has no omniscience. He did not
attribute this remark to the Shaikh's insensibility or unconsciousness. He
rather thought it to be an act of infidelity, even if it was committed by the
Shaikh with a view to being denounced by the world, 7 as public denunciation
was considered by some Sufis to be contributive to Sufistic perfection. "The
true aim of Sufistic institution is to attain sound faith, which depends upon
spiritual tranquillity without which salvation is impossible. When this tran-
quillity is reached, the heart becomes unconscious of everything but God." 8
3. Significance of the SharVah. — The divine Law is connected with the soul
and the spiritualization of the soul depends upon obedience shown to it alone.
The Sufi learns this after his perfection. 9 While still on their way to Sufistic
perfection, many Sufis flounder on this mysterious road. One should never lose
sight of the divine Law whenever one's beliefs and deeds are involved. 10 The
Naqshbandi Shaikhs have subordinated revelation to the divine Law (SharVah)
and with them intuition and inspiration are subject to the divine decrees.
Ecstasy should not be given priority to the divine Law. The Naqshbandis
are never influenced by the senseless and exaggerated discourses of the Sufis.
They never uphold ibn 'Arabi's fass 11 against the explicit verses of the Qur'an
(nass). 1 * The light of God which is revealed in occasional flashes to others is
to them constantly illuminating. Everything but His name is erased from their
hearts, and even if they try for ages they can think of nothing but Him. 13 The
touchstone of the Sufistic revelations and intuitions should be the commen-
taries of the Sunnite theologians, for even the adherents to heresies and all those
who go astray regard the Holy Qur'an and the Sunnah together as the fountain-
5 Maktubat-i Mujaddid, Book I, Letter No. 23.
* Ibid., Letter No. 30.
7 Ibid., Letter No. 100.
8 Ibid., Letter No. 161.
• Ibid., Letter ISTo. 172.
10 Ibid., Letter No. 220.
11 Fass, reference to Fusus al-Hikam by ibn 'Arabi.
12 Nass, an explicit verse of the Qur'an.
13 Maktubat-i Mujaddid, Book I, Letter No. 243.
877
A History of Muslim Philosophy
head of their beliefs. They misinterpret them only because of their perverted
mentalities. 14 The Sufistic discourse which is congruous with the Sunnite
interpretations is agreeable, while that which is otherwise is not. Upright
Sufis never transgress the limits set by the divine Law even in their ecstatic
discourses, dealings, and philosophies. Whenever a Sufi in his ecstasy or
transport opposes the Law, his revelation is a mirage. It should be interpreted
and explained correctly. 15 Perfection comes through meek submission to
God, which implies submission to His Law. This is the best of faiths in the
eyes of the Lord. 1 *
You can tell an impostor from a sincere believer by their respective attitude
to the divine Law. A truly faithful Sufi never transgresses the Law in spite
of his insensibility and ecstasy. Despite his claim, "I am the True One,"
Mansur Hallaj used to offer five hundred rak'dt" every morning in submission
to God even while he was chained in the prison cell. It is as difficult for an
impostor to observe the tenets of the Law as to remove the Mount Caucasus
from its place. 18
According to the Mujaddid, the only duty performed by the theologians
('ulamd') is to issue decrees while it is the people of Allah (saints) who do the
real work. An attempt at internal purification is to enable one to observe the
divine tenets; one who is busy only in internal purification to the extent of
neglecting the divine Law is an infidel and hence his revelations and intuitions
are like those of an obstinate sinner. The way of uprightness is through divinity
and the sign of the real internal purification is the sincere observation of and
submission to the divine Law. The restoration of the Sunnah and the obliga-
tory prayers is the best of worships and will be rewarded in heaven. 19 The
Naqshbandi devotees dislike the mystical revelation that contradicts the
Law and denounce the senseless wranglings of the Sufis. They do not like
dances and hearing of music. They do not like a loud recital of God's name
for He is supposed to be ever with them. With them guidance and discipline
depend upon one's submission to and acknowledgment of the prophetic
institution; it has nothing to do with external trappings such as the cap or
the genealogy of the Shaikh as is the case with the other sects. 20
" Ibid., Letter No. 286.
15 Ibid., Letter No. 289.
16 Ibid., Book II, Letter No. 42.
17 A ralc'at is the unit of a formal Islamic prayer and consists of praying in
four different positions, standing, kneeling, sitting, and falling down in adoration.
Each prayer consists of several units.
18 Maktiibat-i Mujaddid, Book II, Letter No. 95.
18 Ibid., Letter No. 87.
80 Ibid., Book I, Letter No. 221.
878
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi
EXISTENTIAL OR EXPERIENTIAL UNITY
(Warded al-Wujud or Wahdat cd-Shuhud)
In order to understand the rift somehow created between Islam and Sufism
one must ponder over the philosophical aspect of pantheism. Pantheism was
the real bane of Islam. The Mujaddid knew its fallacy and he was one of
those who denounced it vehemently. He based his stand on the training
he had received from his father and his Shaikh, Khwajah Baqi Billah.
The state of pantheism was revealed to him shortly after he had adopted
the Naqshbandi way of approach to reality. He was anxious to understand
the mysticism of ibn 'Arabi. The light of God and of His attributes dawned
upon him and this, according to ibn 'Arabi, is the ultimate end of Sufism.
For years he kept thinking that he had reached the state in which he had
realized the ultimate, but all of a sudden this state vanished. Then he came
to realize that union with God is only experiential and not existential; God is
not and cannot be one with anything. God is God and the world is world. All
that the Sunni theologians said in this respect was true. As the Mujaddid had
loved pantheism much in the earlier stage of his life, he was rather uneasy
at this change; yet with the new revelation, the veil was lifted and the
reality appeared to him in its true form. This world is merely a mark of the
existence of its Creator, and it merely reflects the various attributes of the
Lord. It does not consist of these attributes. A pseudo revelation, he thought,
like erroneous deductions in religious matters, may not be denounced; but
it must not be followed, lest others be misled.
With the followers of ibn 'Arabi, pantheism is the final stage of Sufistic
perfection, while in reality it is nothing but one of the states experienced
by every devotee. After the devotees have passed this preliminary state,
they walk on the right Path. Khwajah Naqsbjband says that all that is heard
or seen or known is a veil. It must be negated with the word "none" (la).
"I had accepted pantheism," says the Mujaddid, "as it was revealed to me
and not because I was directed to it by someone else. Now I denounce it
because of the right revelation of my own which cannot be denied, although
it is not compulsory for others to follow " ai The presence of the One means
that the Sufi sees nothing except the One. The pantheist acknowledges the
presence of the One in everything and thinks all besides it as nothing, yet
the very same non-entity is regarded by him as the incarnation of the One.
Pantheism is not at all essential, because sure knowledge is possible with-
out it, and sure knowledge does not entail the denial of the existence of
others. The sight of the One is in no way denial of the existence of the others.
The prophets never preached pantheism, nor did they ever call the pluralists
1 Ibid., Letter No. 31.
•I
A History of Muslim Philosophy
infidels. They invited people to the oneness of Being. No prophet ever
preached that creation is an incarnation of the Creator. Their aim was to
inculcate faith in the One Lord who is unique and has no like. 22
REVELATION AND INTUITION
Only the Qur'an and the Sunnah are to be trusted. The duty of the
theologians is simply to interpret these fundamental sources and not to add
anything to them. The mysticism of the Sufis and their revelations and
inspirations are to be accepted only if they conform to them; otherwise they
are to be rejected. The promise of God is to unveil Himself to His good
people in the hereafter and not here. The revelations and "lights" of which
the Sufis are so proud are nothing but their own mental projections and
fantasies in order to console themselves. The open sight of God is absolutely
impossible to people in this world. "I am afraid the beginners would be
discouraged if I were to point out the drawbacks of these revelations and
'lights,' but if I remain silent, the true and the false shall remain undis-
tinguished. I insist that these 'fights' and revelations must be judged with
reference to the revelation of God on the Mount of Sinai, when the Prophet
Moses prayed for the sight of Him. Who can bear the sight of Him ?" 23
"Abundance of miracles is not the sign of a devotee's spiritual superiority.
A person who has no miracle to his credit may possibly be superior to others
in certain respects. Shaikh, Shihab al-Din Suhrawardi says, "Miracles are a
boon from God to render the faith firm, but the man who has been gifted
with a firm faith does not require them ; it is enough for him that his heart
praises and remembers Him.' Miracles can be divided into two categories.
Those of the first category comprise the transcendental knowledge of God
and His attributes. These are beyond the sphere of rational inquiry and are
revealed only to a few of His favourites. The second category is concerned
with revelation about creation and information concerning this universe.
Unlike the former, even impostors can have a share in the latter. The people
having miracles of the first category have more chances to reach God than
those having miracles of the second, but to the common man, the latter are
more acceptable. ' 24
Ibn 'Arabi is reported to have said that some pious devotees were ashamed
of their miracles at their death-beds. Why should they have been so if the
miracles were the only true touchstone of a pious devotee's superiority?
Numerous saints are unaware of their position and status but as they are
not prophets they do not need the awareness of their position. Saintly men
22 Ibid., Letter No. 272.
23 Ibid., Letter No. 217.
24 Ibid., Letter No. 293.
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi
can invite people to the religion of their prophet without miracles. Their real
miracle is to purify the souls of their disciples. The soul being immaterial,
they have to turn their attention away from materialism. These people even
without miracles are the sureties of peace and prosperity in this world. The
distinction between a true and a false devotee is that the former adheres
strictly to the Law, and the latter adheres to his own whims. The man whose
company inspires you to be more attentive to God is a true devotee. 26 Not
even a prophet is safe from the evil designs of the devil. If a devotee is tempted
by Satan he should judge his inspiration by its accord to the tenets of the
religion of his prophet. If anywhere the divine Law is silent and the Satan's
"inspiration" cannot be proved right or wrong, the "inspiration" should be
regarded as questionable. The divine tenets are silent in matters which are
superficial, and, therefore, may neither be accepted nor rejected.
Sometimes, without any attempt on the part of the Satan to mislead us,
we have false inspirations as in dreams. These false inspirations are the creations
of our own fancy. 26
THE RELIGIOUS LAW
According to the Mujaddid, religious Law has three aspects: knowledge,
actions, and fidelity. To acquire these aspects of the Law it is necessary to
win the pleasure of God which excels all blessings. Sufism and gnosticism
help in purifying one's soul by completing the important aspect of fidelity.
They have no end in view but this. Ecstasy, "intoxication," and "illumination"
are by-products of Sufism. They are not its ends. They are merely phantasies
and projections in order to please the beginners. After passing these on his way,
the Sufi has to surrender to the divine will, which is his real destination. One
among thousands achieves pure fidelity. Blind men take the by-products for
the principal articles and are, therefore, deprived of the truth. A Sufi has to
experience these states before his acquisition of the truth. 27
The Mujaddid himself experienced these intermediate states for years, and
ultimately achieved the goal of fidelity. Those who think the Law superficial
and regard gnosis as the right Path are misled. They are content with the
states, the means, and ignore the end. 28 The straight Path is the Path of the
Holy Prophet whose guidance is the best. Internal purification completes the
external and is not contradictory to it. When we submit devoutly to God's
beloved, the Holy Prophet, we become His beloved. 29
Submission to the Prophet's tradition (Sunnah) is the real bliss, while
25 Ibid., Book II, Letter No. 92.
2e Ibid., Book I, Letter No. 107.
" Ibid., Letter No. 36.
88 Ibid., Letter No. 40.
29 Ibid., Letter No. 41.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
opposition to it is the cause of all disasters. Hindu sadhus or ascetics undergo
much privation but all in vain, for it is not in accordance -with the true Law.
The most that such ascetics can achieve is some material gain which is tran-
sitory. The devotees of the religious Law are like dealers in diamonds who
work less but gain more. 30
On the completion of a Sufi's life, real pleasure is derived from the per-
formance of obligatory prayers, while in the beginning non-obligatory prayers
are more pleasant. 31
The states of ecstasy, gnosis, and "illumination" are good if they are sub-
servient to the Law; otherwise they are misleading. If not weighed in the
balance of the Law, they are worthless. 32
The Sufistic conduct helps one to abide by the divine Law. It controls one's
lower passions and undermines their influence. It is neither antagonistic nor
equivalent to the religious Law. It is rather subservient to it. 33
Some people are punctilious in the observance of the form of Law, but
they ignore its intrinsic truth and worth and regard salvation as their only
aim. Some people achieve the truth but assert that they have achieved it
through their own effort and not through the help of the divine Law, which
for them is merely formal. They think only of the form of the Law and not of
the spirit of it. Either group is ignorant of its intrinsic virtues and is deprived
of the divine guidance. True theologians alone are heirs to the prophets. 34
Those who regard a saint (wall) superior to a prophet are senseless and
are not fully aware of the attributes of prophethood which is superior to
saintship (wilayah) in all respects. 35
The Mujaddid was a great religious enthusiast. The movement that he
started in religion is still continued by his followers in various parts of the
Muslim world. Has heritage is indispensable for a modern reconstruction of
religious thought in Islam. He was a Sufi but he did not think Sufism as the
sole aim of life. For him it was merely a means to an end, the end being
complete and unconditional adherence and fidelity to the Qur'an and the
Sunnah. For an essentially just estimate of his teachings one must consider
him with reference to his times. His books are a valuable record of bis
practice and thought. He gave us a treatise on Sufistic perfection, but the
best of him is found in three volumes of his letters. The total number of
letters in all these volumes is 535. With some exceptions, these are arranged
in their chronological order. Five of his letters have been lost. They prove
beyond doubt the encyclopediac knowledge he had, and make a pleasant and
enlightening reading.
*» Ibid., Letter No. 1U.
31 Ibid., Letter No. 137.
32 Ibid., Letter No. 207.
38 Ibid., Letter No. 210.
34 Ibid., Book II, Letter No. 18.
35 Ibid., Book I, Letter No. 251.
Jalal al-Dln Dawwani
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi, Maktubdt-i Mujaddid, Newal Kishore, Lucknow; Burhan
Ahmad Faruqi, Mujaddid' a Conception of Tawhid; M. Farman, Hayat-i Mujaddid,
Board for Advancement of Literature, Lahore, 1958; M. Ikram| Rmid~i Kauihar;
Jahangir, Tuzak, Newal Kishore, Lucknow; Ahmad Husain Khan. Jaivcthir
Mujaddadiyyah; Badruddin Ibrahim, Hadrat al-Quds; Khwajah Kamal al-Din,
Baudot al-Qayyumiyyah; M. Amin, Maqamat Ahmadiyyah; Muhammad Hasan,
Maqamat Imam Rabbani.
Part 4. The "Philosophers"
Chapter XLV
JALAL AL-DlN DAWWANI
LIFE AND WORKS
Muhammad bin As'ad Jalal al-Din was born in 830/1427 at Dawwan in
the district of Kazarun, of which his father was the Qadi. Having received
early education from his father and then from Mahjwi al-Ari and Hasan bin
Baqqal, he studied theology under Muhyi al-Din Ansari and Hammam al-Din
at Shiraz, where he ultimately became professor at the Madrasat al-Aitdm.
In a short time he became famous for his knowledge and learning, attracting
students from far and wide. It was in recognition of his literary and academic
fame that he got admission into the Court of Hasan Beg Khan Bahadur
(Uziin Hasan), the then Turkish ruler of Mesopotamia and Persia. He ulti-
mately rose to the eminent position of the Qadi of the Court, which position
he retained under Sultan Ya'qiib as well. He died in 907/1501 or 908/1502,
and was buried in his native village Dawwan. 1
Tusi revived the tradition of philosophical disciplines during the Mongol
period; Dawwani did the same during the Ottoman period. Whereas the
former gave a fresh impetus to the study of ibn Shia by writing commentaries
on some of his works and by defending him against his detractors, the latter
reorientated the study of Shihab al-Din Maqtiil by writing a commentary
on his Hayakil-i Nur and elaborating his illuminative philosophy (fyikmat-i
ishrdq) in his own works. Both are revivalists, but they differ in their approach
to the truth. The one is a true Avicennian, the other a faithful Suhrawardian.
Brockelmann has enumerated seventy of his extant works, 8 of which the
important ones are listed below: —
1 Encyclopaedia of Islam, Vol. I, p. 933.
2 Geschichte der Arabischen IAtteratur, Suppl., Vol. II, 1937, pp. 306-09.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Sharif, 'Aqa'id-i 'Advdiyyah, Istanbul, 1817.
Sharh Tahdhib al-Mantiq wa cd-Kaldm, Lucknow, 1264/1847.
Al-Zaura, Cairo, 1326/1908.
Risalah fi Ithbdt al-Wajib al-Qadlmah w-al-Jadidah.
Risalah fi Tahqtq Nafs al-Amr.
Risalah fi lthbat al-Jauhar al-Mufariq.
Risalah fi 'Adalah.
Risalah fi al-Hikmak.
Sharh aLHayakil.
Anmudhaj al-'Ulum.
Al-Masa'U al-'Asr fi al-Kalam.
Ahhjdq-i Jalali, translated into English under the title of The Practical
Philosophy of the Mohammadan People by W. P. Thompson London
1839.
Dawwani was commissioned by Sultan Hasan Beg to revise the ethical
treatise of Tusi with the express aim of "correcting and completing" it from
the illuminative (ishraqi) point of view. The structure of Akhjdq-i Jalali is
basically the same as that of Akhldq-i Nasiri, but in the execution of the work
Dawwani has artistically ornamented it with the Qur'anic verses, precepts
of the Prophet and his Companions, and the moving utterances of the mystics.
He not only abbreviated and simplified Tusi's treatise but also amplified and
elaborated it at places in the light of the philosophy of illumination; besides
he added much by way of literary adornment.
Following ibn Miskawaih, Tusi regards ultimate happiness (sa'Mat-i quswa)
as the summum bonum of life. His concept of ultimate happiness, because of
its reference to the heavenly (qudsi) element, is intrinsically different from
the Aristotelian concept of happiness. Dawwani goes a step further and
identifies the moral with the religious ideal. It is with reference to God-
intended vicegerency that the Qur'an distinguishes right from wrong, evaluates
knowledge and appreciates power; therefore, vicegerency of God (khilafat-i
ildhi) and not ultimate happiness should be the inspiring ideal of the "noblest
of the creation." His moral theory, in other words, is based on the place or
position of man in the universe as determined by God and not by man him-
self, which is that of the vicegerency of God.
What entitles man to this high office of responsibility ? Dawwani finds the
answer in a saying of the Caliph 'AH. Man, according to this saying, occupies
a middle position between the angels and the brutes. The former have intellect
without desire and ire. They have no temptations, nor freedom of choice;
being perfect by nature, they are above morality. The latter, on the other
hand, have desire and ire without intellect, and, thus, being incapable of
controlling their irrational impulses, are below morality. Man has both. He
Jalal al-Dln Dawwani
can, however, rise above the angels by subordinating desire and ire to intellect,
and can also sink below the brutes if desire and ire enslave his intellect. The
brutes can be excused for want of intellect, but not man. The excellence of
man's perfection is enhanced by his natural temptation and deliberate resist-
ance to evil; the angels have been spared the painful processes of conflict,
deliberation, and choice. Thus, man alone is a free, responsible and, therefore,
moral being, and his right to the vicegerency of God is established on this
very ground. 3
How is this vicegerency to be accomplished by man ? Quoting the Qur'anic
verse, "Whosoever gains wisdom, verily he gains great good," Dawwani holds
that mature wisdom (hikmat-i balighak) is the royal road to this exalted
position. But mature wisdom, being a happy blend of theory and practice,
is essentially different from the Socratic dictum: Knowledge is virtue. The
Greeks were interested in ascertaining the speculative principles of morals;
the practical aspect of ethics was quite alien to their temperament.
Mature wisdom can be acquired through intellectual insight as well as
through mystic intuition. Both the philosopher and the mystic reach the
same goal through different ways. What the former "knows," the latter "sees,"
there being complete harmony between the findings of the two.
Influenced by the Qur'anic doctrine of moderation* no less than the Aristote-
lian doctrine of the mean, Dawwani holds that the mean constitutes the good in
all matters. But it is determined not by "reason" and "prudence," as held by
Aristotle, but by the divine Law. Reason can at best determine the form of
morality, the content whereof must come from the divine Code. Since the
path of moderation is difficult to tread, Dawwani has identified it with the
bridge over hell (pul sirdt) — a bridge which is narrower than a hair and
sharper than a sword.
Moral struggle presupposes that all dispositions (khulq), whether innate or
acquired, are capable of modification and change. Constant instruction and
discipline and punishment, as evidenced by experience, can change the wicked
into the virtuous. By these means the evil is greatly reduced, if not completely
eradicated. And since a person does not know beforehand that a particular
evil disposition would resist all attempts to modify and change it, it is in
consonance with the dictates of both reason and religion that he should exert
his utmost for its modification.
To Plato virtue was the moderation of human nature as a whole. Aristotle
assigned to each virtue the place moderation would give it. But he could go
no further than this. The Greeks "systematized, generalized, and theorized,"
but the accumulation of positive knowledge based on patient, detailed, and
prolonged observation was altogether "alien to their temperament." This
weakness of the Greek genius was removed by a rather practical and penetrating
3 Akhlaq-i Jalali, p. 24.
1 Qur'an, ii, 190; v, 2.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
mind of the Muslims, 5 who classified ethics as a "part of practical philo-
sophy." With ibn Miskawaih, the first Muslim moralist, the emphasis shifted
from broad generalizations to individual differentiation and specification of
virtues. He not only determined seven, eleven, twelve and nineteen species 6
of wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice respectively— the four cardinal
virtues of Plato— but also developed an attractive theory of the causes and
cures of mental diseases, a process which culminated in al-Ghazali with a
shift from an intellectual to a mystic outlook. 7
Ibn Miskawaih had worked out the details of Plato's theory of virtue, but
with Tusi the problem was that of improving and completing the Aristotelian
theory of vice. He emphasized for the first time that deviation from the
equipoise is not only quantitative but also qualitative, and, thus, added per-
version (radd'at) as the third generic cause of vice 8 to the Aristotelian excess
and deficiency of a State. Tusi also set the seal of completion on practical
philosophy by including domestics and politics in his ethical treatise in order
to meet the deficiencies of the ethical work of ibn Sina (Kitab al- Taharat) and of
that of Farabi. Lastly, Tusi revolted against the ascetic ethics of al-Ghazali. As-
ceticism, for him, is the negation of moral life, for man is by nature a social being
as is indicated by the word for man in Arabic, insan (associating), and body is
not an obstacle but an instrument of the soul for attaining the perfection it is
capable of. 9 Nevertheless, he recognizes asceticism as a necessary stage in the de-
velopment of mystic consciousness, of which he has had no personal experience.
Inspired by the illuminative philosophy of Shihab al-Din Maqtul, Dawwani
finds complete harmony between philosophy and mysticism. What the mystii
"sees," the philosopher "knows," and what the latter "knows," the forme:
' He, therefore, gave a Qur'anic bias to the ethics of Tusi.
former
Following Tusi, Dawwani too has used Siydsat-i Mudun more in the sense
of the science of civics than in the modern sense of politics. The origin, func-
tion, and classes of society and the need of a government headed by a just
king are the same for Dawwani as for Tusi. Monarchy is held to be the ideal
form of government, in which king is the second arbitrator of justice, the
first being the divine Law. After reproducing the general principles of distribu-
tive and corrective justice from Akhfaq-i Nasiri, Dawwani adds ten moral
principles of his own, which ought to be observed by a king in order to ensure
efficient administration of justice.
5 Briffault, The Making of Humanity, p. 192.
6 Tahdhlb al-Akhl&q, pp. 15-20.
7 Mizan al-' Anted, pp. 83-91.
8 Akhlaq-i Nasiri, p. 1 14.
9 Ivanow, Tasawwurat, p. 92.
Jalal al-Din Dawwani
In the first place, the king should invariably consider himself to be the ag-
grieved party while deciding a case, so that he may not wish for the aggrieved
what is abhorrent to himself. Secondly, he should see that the cases are dis-
posed of quickly, for justice delayed is justice denied. Thirdly, he should not
indulge in sensual and physical pleasures which ultimately bring about the
ruin of a State in their wake. Fourthly, royal decisions should be based on
clemency and condescension rather than on rashness and wrath. Fifthly, in
pleasing people he should seek the pleasure of God. Sixthly, he should not
seek the pleasure of the people by displeasing God. Seventhly, he should
render justice if decision is left to his discretion, but forgiveness is better
than justice if mercy is begged of him. Eighthly, he should associate with
the righteous and lend ears to their counsels. Ninthly, he should keep every-
one to his rightful place and should not entrust high office to the low-born
people. Lastly, he should not be content with personal abstention from
injustice, but should so conduct the affairs of the State that none under his
authority is guilty of this offence.
METAPHYSICS
Like Tusi and others, Dawwani's cosmology consists of the gradual emanation
of ten intellects, nine spheres, four elements, and three kingdoms of nature.
The active intellect, the intellect of the sphere of the moon, bridges the gap
between the heaven and the earth.
Quoting the Prophet's saying that intellect is the noblest of all the
created things, Dawwani identifies the first intellect ('aql-i awwal) with the
original essence of Muhammad. It conceives the idea of all things past, present,
and future, just as a seed potentially contains roots, branches, leaves, and
fruit. The spheres which are stationary in nature, but changeable in qualities,
control the destiny of the material world. Fresh situations come into being
through the revolutions of the spheres, and every moment the active intellect
causes a new form into existence to reflect itself in the mirror of elemental
matter. Passing through the mineral, vegetative, and animal states, the first
intellect finally appears in the form of acquired intellect ('aql-i mustafad)
in man, and, thus, the highest point having coalesced with the lowest, the
circle of being is completed by the two arcs of ascent and descent.
The first intellect is like the seed which, having sprouted into twigs, branches,
and fruit, reverts to its original form of unity possessing collective potentiality.
This circular process takes the form of motion (harkat-i tvada'i), in growing
bodies of increasing or decreasing their magnitude, and in the rational soul that
of the movement of thought. All these motions are, in fact, shadows of the
divine motion proceeding from God's love for self-expression, which in mystic
terminology is called the flashing of Self upon Self. 10
« Akhlaq-i Jalali, pp. 258-59.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Dawwani's metaphysical treatise, al-Zaura is a critical evaluation of Kaldm
and of the teachings of the spiritual leaders, the philosophers, and the mystics,
from the illuminative (ishrdqi) point of view. He fully appreciates the utility
and importance of the first three disciplines but takes a serious notice of the
inconsistency with Islam of some of the issues raised by them. He believes
that philosophy and mysticism both ultimately lead to the same goal, yet he
cannot shut his eyes to the eminence and superiority of the latter over the
former. Mysticism, in his view, is free from doubt and uncertainty because it
is due to divine grace and is, therefore, nearer to prophethood. 11
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Jalal al-Din Dawwani, Akhlaq-i Jalali, Lucknow, 1916; al-Zaura, MS. No. Ar.
™ 7 t t^t y mversit y Librar y- ^"ore; W. F. Thompson, The Practical
Ptelosophyofthe Mohammadan People, London, 1890; A. M. A. Shushtery, An Outline
London^, D m'T'T,' ™V ^ ^ An M ™*™ » ^cioZ^y in Islam,
London 1933; DM. Donaldson, Studies in Muslim Ethics, London, 1953; Encyclo-
paedn :of Islam, Vol II, London, 19 13-28 ; E. G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia,
«« ?Al^!Sr 19 ? W Ab ? f Salam NadaWi ' ^*« /-»», A»m2ri Vol. I
I ^ !k]l' ^^ C - BrockeI ™nn,Ge^cfe e der Arabischen Litteratur, 2nd edn.
Leiden, 1943, Suppl., 1937.
11 Al-Zaura, p. 116.
Chapter XLVI
IBN KHALDUN
Ibn Khaldun wrote no major work in fields accepted in the Muslim philo-
sophic tradition, or which he himself considered to be the proper fields of
philosophic investigation— logic, mathematics, physics, and metaphysics-
politics, ethics, and economics.* Consequently, he was not regarded by
his contemporaries, or by subsequent Muslim students of philosophy, as a
philosopher (failasuf) in the sense in which al-Farabi, ibn Sina, and ibn Rushd
were identified as such. Nevertheless, both his contemporaries and later
Muslim students of history and society were aware that ibn Khaldun had
made^hejnost significant contribution to these specialized fields through his
1 The summaries of "many" of the works of ibn Rushd, which he wrote as a
MuTvi Tnfn T^hI £ ^ » P^vf : al - Ma W™' *«& <*-Tib, ed. Muhammad
Hi ,S al-Ha mi d [10 vols., Cairo, al-Maktabat al-Tijariyyah, 1367/1947,
fh?ind7„ fif' "5PI' ^ ?u OV ^.° f ValUe in COTrob °™ting the philosophic notions
found m the History." Ibn Khaldun himself did not evidently consider them of
permanent value; they have not as yet been recovered, and it is not known whether
they have survived at alt.
Ibn Khaldun
undertaking a scientific investigation of them. It was, however, the enhanced
interest in the study of history and society in modern times which led to the
devotion of increased attention to ibn Khaldun's thought, to the recognition
of his rank as a major Muslim thinker, and to the judgment that he was
equal, if not superior, to the other well-known Muslim philosophers. This
was in part the result of the higher prestige, and of the peculiar theoretical
importance, which history and the science of society (as compared to the
theoretical part of traditional philosophy) have come to enjoy in modern times.
But the more important reason for the singular interest in ibn Khaldun in
modern times lies in the conclusions of his investigations in history and society.
To the moderns, these conclusions appear to be more scientific than either
the conclusions of the legal investigation of Muslim jurists or the politico-
philosophic investigations of Muslim philosophers. Perhaps on the analogy
of the revolt of modern science against traditional philosophy, and especially
of modern political philosophy and social science against traditional political
philosophy, it has been assumed that ibn Khaldun must have attempted a
similar, or parallel, revolt against traditional Muslim philosophy in general,
and against traditional Muslim political philosophy in particular.
Because of its important implications for the understanding of ibn Khal-
diin's thought, this crucial assumption deserves critical examination. The
larger context of the present work seems to warrant an inquiry into the pre-
cise relationship between ibn Khaldiin's new science and the Muslim philo-
sophic tradition. This relationship has been for the most part viewed in the
perspective, and under the influence, of the modern philosophic and scientific
tradition. In the present work, in contrast, the reader comes to ibn Khaldun
through the preceding Greek and Muslim philosophic tradition, which ibn
Khaldun knew and in relation to which he can be expected to have taken his
bearing. The reader, thus, must be shown, on the basis of ibn Khaldun's con-
ception of philosophy and science, and of his conception of the relation be-
tween his new science and the established philosophic science, whether he
was in fundamental agreement with that tradition (in which case it must be
shown what the specific character of his contribution to that tradition was),
or in fundamental disagreement with it, and hence was the teacher of, not only
a new, but a novel doctrine. That this procedure is the sound historical pro-
cedure is usually admitted. But what has not been seen with sufficient clarity
is that, in addition to providing the proper historical perspective for the
understanding of ibn Khaldun's thought, it is of fundamental importance to
elicit the basic principles or premises of his new science, and thus contribute
to the understanding of its true character.
Ibn Khaldun's place in the history of Muslim philosophy, and his contribu-
tion to the Muslim philosophic tradition, must be determined primarily on
the basis of the "Introduction" (Muqoddimah) and Book One of his "History"
A History of Muslim Philosophy
(Kim al-'Ibar)* That a work exploring the art of history, and largely devoted
to an account of universal history » should concern itself with philosophy is
justified by ibn Khaldun on the ground that history has a dual character-
(a) an external (zdhir) aspect which is essentially an account of, or informa-
tion about, past events; and <b) an internal (batin) aspect. With respect to
this latter aspect, history "is contemplation (theory: nazar) and verification
(tafyqiq), a precise causal explanation of things generated (ka'indt) and their
origins (or principles: mabadi), and a profound science film) of the qualities
and causes of events; therefore, it is a firm and principal part (asl) of wisdom
(hikmah), and deserves, and is well fitted, to be counted among its sciences."*
Whatever ibn Khaldun's position concerning the relation between wisdom
and philosophy may have been (ibn Rushd, who was the last of the major
Muslim philosophers whom ibn Khaldun studied, considered that the two had
become identical in his own time),* he frequently uses the expressions "wise
men" (huhama') and "philosophers" (fcOasifah) interchangeably, and it is
certain that he identifies the sciences of wisdom with the philosophic sciences «
Furthermore, in his classification and exposition of the various sciences, he
defines the basic characteristics of these sciences, enumerates them, and makes
ample reference to the Greek and Muslim authors, who represent the specific
philosophic tradition which he accepts as the tradition.
Ibn Khaldun's definition of the philosophic sciences is based on an emphatic
and clear-cut distinction, if not total opposition, between the sciences which
are natural t o man as a rational being (therefore, he names them also "natural"
,J ^ Intr oduction and Book One are known together as the "Introduction"
i^lff^v rl- ?ZZ, P - 898 - References in th * ^apter and in that on
ibn Khaldun s Political Philosophy (cf. below, Book IV, Part 6, Chap XLIX) are
to the volumes, pages (and lines) of the Quatremere edition (Q) together with
the corrections and/or additions supplied by de Slane and F. Rosenthal in their
respective French and English translations, both of which reproduce the pagination
chaste? Uatremere edlti ° n ° n the mar § in - Cf - the Bibliography at the end of this
3 Cf. the account of the parts of the 'Ibar, below, d 898
4 Q. I, 2:17-19. *
5 ° r that philosophic questions (i. e., the quest for wisdom) have become scientific
logoi. Therefore ,bn Rushd omits the well-known opinions and dialectical
arguments found in Aristotle's works, and does not enumerate the views current
m ™ own tune « Aristotle did, "because wisdom in his (Aristotle's) time had
not become complete, and contained opinions of groups who were believed to be
wise. But now that wisdom has become complete, and there being in our time no
groups (merely) behaved to be wise . . . the contemplation of these sciences must
be according to the mode in which mathematics is contemplated today. For this
identical reason we must omit from them also the dialectical arguments." Ibn
Rushd Tag* al.Sama< al-TaWi ("Paraphrase of the Physics"), ITcairo, Dar
al-Kutub, Htkmah No. 5, fol. 1 of Ahmad Fu'ad al-Ahwani, Talkhis Kitab al-Nafs
(Paraphrase du deAnima"), (Cairo, Imprimerie Misr, 1950), Introduction, p. 16-
Kitabal-Sama' al-Tabl't, (Hyderabad, Dairatul-Maarif, 1365/1945) pp 2-3
, Jd £ I?' ?" H ' 385 ^ IU ' 87:3 ~ 4 {whOTe b ° th Wisd ° m and P^osophy are
used together in naming these sciences), 210.
890
Ibn Khaldun
[tabi'iyyah] and "rational" or "intellectual" f'aqllyyahj sciences) 7 and the
legal, transmitted, or positive sciences based on the divine Law, which are
the special property of a particular religious community. In contrast, the
philosophic sciences are "those which a human being can understand by
(virtue of) the nature of his thought and the subjects, the problems, the ways
of demonstration, and the modes of teaching to which he is guided by per-
ception, until his contemplation and investigation lead him to understand
the true from the false in as far as he is a human being possessing thought." 8
The philosophic sciences are classified into four fundamental sciences or
groups of sciences : logic, mathematics, physics, and metaphysics or the divine
science. 9 This is followed by a concise history of these sciences (especially
among the ancient Persians, the Greeks, and the Muslims) which emphasizes
(a) the relation between the rise and development of these sciences, and cultural
development and prosperity, and their decline subsequent to cultural dis-
integration; and (b) the anti-philosophic attitude of the divine laws and reli-
gious communities, which led (especially in cases where sovereigns adopted
this attitude, or religious orthodoxy was able to determine the type of learning
pursued in the community) to deserting the philosophic sciences. 10
The philosophic sciences reaching the Muslims were those of the Greeks. 11
Of the Greek philosophic schools ibn Khaldun mentions specifically those of
Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, and also the commentators of Aristotle, i.e.,
Alexander of Aphrodisias, Themistius, and others. Aristotle is singled out
as "the most well grounded of them in these sciences." 18 Muslims recovered
these sciences from the disuse to which they had fallen among the Byzantines,
and after a period of searching for, acquiring, and translating the works
preserved among the latter, Muslim scholars studied these Greek philosophic
sciences, became skilled in their various branches, reached the highest level
of proficiency in them, and surpassed some of their predecessors. Although
7 Q. II, 385, III, 86-87.
8 Q. II, 385 : 5-9.
* There are three schemes according to which these sciences are enumerated.
The four sciences or groups of sciences mentioned here appear in all of them.
The order is that of the central scheme which divides the philosophic sciences
into seven (mathematics, being subdivided into arithmetic, geometry, astronomy,
and music) (Q. Ill, 88: 12-19). This scheme seems to emphasize the order in which,
according to ibn Khaldun himself, these sciences follow one another. Consider the
characterization of logic as that which comes first (muqaddam) — (note also the
use of muqaddimah as "principle" or "premise") — and of mathematics as "coming
after" logic (ba'dahu). In the first scheme (logic, natural science [or] metaphysics,
and mathematics), the order seems to be in accordance with the contemplation
of these sciences as pursued among them ('indahum), i.e., among the philosophers
(Q. Ill, 87-88). The third scheme (mathematics, logic) gives a summary exposition
of these sciences "one by one" (Q. Ill, 88: 19-20, 93ff.).
10 Q. Ill, 88-92.
11 Cf. Q. I, 62-63.
14 Q. Ill, 90:14.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
they differed with Aristotle on many issues, they generally recognized him
as the foremost teacher (Mu'allim-i Awual). Of Muslim philosophers, ibn
Khaldun mentions by name al-Farabi, ibn Sina, ibn Bajjah, and ibn Rushd.
He indicates the decline of the philosophic sciences in western Islam after
the disintegration of cultural life in that region, and refers to reports con-
cerning the then nourishing state of these sciences in Persia and eastward,
and their revival and spread in western Europe. 13
Thus, there seems to be little doubt that when ibn Khaldun says that the
study of the internal aspect of history is to be made one of the sciences of
wisdom, he does not simply mean that it deserves a systematic, rational,
and scientific study in general. What he means is much more specific and
precise. The study of the internal aspect of history, if it is to be properly
scientific, must be recognized as a significant part of, and is to be pursued as
belonging to, one of the philosophic sciences or one of a group of the philo-
sophic sciences which he enumerates. These are the Greek philosophic sciences
(of the Socratic school) 14 epitomized in the works of Aristotle and also in
those of the Muslim philosophers who belonged to that school and concen-
trated primarily on the exposition of the works of Aristotle.
To which of these sciences or groups of sciences does the investigation of
the internal aspect of history belong ? To answer this question, a fuller state-
ment of the character and principles of this investigation is needed. Ibn
Kjjaldun first formulates what this investigation is to comprise, and how
it is to be conducted, through a critique of Islamic historiography and the
examination of the causes of the errors of historians in the "Introduction,"
in which he illustrates the distinction between the external and internal
aspects of history and establishes that these errors are primarily due to the
ignorance of the nature and causes of historical events, both in so far as
these are permanent and homogeneous as well as in so far as they change and
are heterogeneous. Then, in the first part of the introduction to Book One,
the true character of history is said to be identical with "information about
human association, which is the culture f'umran) of the world, and the states
which occur to the nature of that culture . . . (and) all that is engendered in
that culture by the nature of (these) states."" The primary cause of errors in
transmitting historical information (and, consequently, in writing an untrue
account of history), thus, becomes ignorance of the nature of the states of
13 Q. Ill, 90-93.
14 For the distinction among the various Greek philosophic schools (which had
equally distinct groups of followers in Muslim philosophy), and of their different
attitudes to divine Laws, cf. al-Shahrastani, al-MUal w-al-Nihal, ed. Ahmad
Fahmi Muhammad, 3 Vols., Cairo, Maktabat al-Husain al-Tijariyyah, 1367-68/
1947-48, Vol. II, pp. 104-07, 231 ff. '
15 Q.I, 56: 6-13.
Ibn Khaldun
culture. The states of culture and what is engendered in them is considered
to form a part of all engendered things, whether essences or acts, each of
which inevitably has a nature specific to its essence and to its accidental
states. "What the historian needs for examining historical reports, and for
distinguishing the true from the false, is knowledge "of the natures of engen-
dered [existents] and the states in existence" 16 so as to be able to examine
and determine the possibility or impossibility of the occurrence of the events
themselves. Thus, the basic principles (i.e., the subject-matter, problems,
method, and end) of a new investigation emerge, and are finally formulated
as follows:
"The rule for distinguishing truth from falsehood in the [investigation of
historical] information on the grounds of possibility and impossibility is for
us to contemplate human association, which is culture, and to distinguish the
states pertaining to its essence and required by its nature, what is accidental
and need not be reckoned with, and what cannot possibly occur in it. If we
do that, it would be for us a rule in distinguishing truth from falsehood in
[historical] information, and veracity from lying, in a demonstrative manner
admitting of no doubt. Then, if we hear about some states taking place in
culture, we shall know scientifically what we should judge as acceptable and
what we should judge as spurious. This will be for us a sound criterion by
which historians will pursue the path of veracity and correctness in what they
transmit. This is the purpose of this First Book of our work. It is, as it were, a
science independent by itself. For it has a subject (namely, human culture
and human association) and has [its own] problems (i. e., explaining the states
that pertain to its essence one after the other)." 17
We then have a seemingly independent science the subject of which is
human association or culture; the problems of which are the essential states
of culture; the method is that of strict demonstration; and the end is that
it be used as a rule to distinguish the true and the veracious from the false
and the spurious in historical reports. To which philosophic science or group
of sciences does this science belong, and in what way could it be characterized
as a firm and principal part of philosophy ?
That it does not belong to the logical or the mathematical sciences, needs
little argument. Logic is defined by ibn Khaldun as "the science which
makes the mind immune to error in seizing upon unknown problems [or
questions] through matters already realized and known. Its advantage is in
distinguishing error from correctness in the essential and accidental concept
and judgments, which he who contemplates aims at in order that he may
understand the verification of truth in generated [things], negatively and
positively." 18 Logic is an organon of thought and a propaedeutical science
making rules used in the contemplation of all generated things, and in
"" 1B Q. I, 57-58.
" Q.I, 61:7-19.
18 Q. Ill, 87:5-9.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
ascertaining the sound definitions of their essences and accidents. Since the
subject and problems of the science of culture are said to belong to generated
things, it will have to use the rules devised by the logical arts, but it is not
itself concerned with the problems of how to achieve sound abstractions or
how to distinguish them from those unsound.
It is only necessary to add here, first, that ibn Khaldun accepted, without
reservation, Aristotelian logic as found in the logical writings of Aristotle
(with the addition of Porphyry's Isagoge) and the commentaries of al-Farabi,
ibn Sina, and ibn Rushd. Thus, logic for him deals with mental forms abstracted
from things and useful in the knowledge of the essences and the "truths" of
things. Its central aim is demonstration or "the syllogism producing cer-
tainty," and "the identity of the definition and [the thing] defined," i.e.,
the subjects dealt with in the Posterior Analytics or "The Book of Demon-
stration." 19 Ibn Khaldun doubts the validity of the attempts of Muslim
dialectical theologians (Mutakallimun) who concentrate on purely formal syl-
logism and forego the fruits of the works of the ancients in the field of material
logic. 20 Secondly, ibn Khaldun repeatedly emphasizes that the science of
culture must be a demonstrative science in the sense specified here, to the
exclusion of dialectical, rhetorical, and poetic arguments which are based on
commonly known and commonly accepted premises rather than on self-
evident, necessary, and essential premises, or premises that are the conclusions
of syllogisms based on such premises, as required by posterioristic logic.
As to the mathematical sciences, they are concerned with measurements
or quantities, either theoretically, such as the study of pure numbers, or
practically as applied arts. In the latter case, they are useful in the study of
culture, since they acquaint us with the mathematical properties of things,
such as the stars, which exercise an influence on culture, and form the bases
of many of the crafts which are an important aspect of cultural life. 21 But
although the science of culture makes use of the conclusions of the mathematical
sciences and is concerned with quantity as one of the categories of all generated
things, its subject is not quantity as such, but the nature and causes of a
specific generated thing which is culture.
This leaves us with natural sciences and metaphysics, or the sciences of natu-
ral and divine existents. Since the study of generated things, their natures, their
states, and all that is engendered in them, 22 is the specific subject of natural
science or natural philosophy, the new science of that specific generated thing
which is culture seems to form a part of natural philosophy and to belong
to it by virtue of its subject. This statement must now be amplified by giving
answers to: (a) why does the new science of culture deserve to be a natural
19 Q. Ill, 108-12.
80 Q. Ill, 112-16.
21 Cf. Q. Ill, 87-88, 93-108.
22 Cf. above p. 893.
science and counted among the natural sciences, and (b) how does ibn Khaldun
establish it as a firm and principal part of natural philosophy ? 23
Natural science is defined by ibn Khaldun as follows:
"Then [after logic], the contemplation among them [i.e., the philosophers]
turns either to: [a] the sensibles, viz., bodies of the elements, and those
generated from them (viz., minerals, plants, and animals), celestial bodies,
and natural motions; or the soul from which motions emerge, etc. This art
is named 'natural science,' and it is the second of these (philosophic) sciences.
Or [b] the contemplation turns to the matters that are beyond nature." 24
This is explained further in the second and more elaborate definition sup-
plied by ibn Khaldun in his own way: ,
"[Natural science] is the science which inquires about the body with respect
to what adheres to it, viz., motion and rest. Thus, it contemplates the heavenly
and elemental bodies, and what is begotten from them (man, animals, plants,
and minerals) ; what is generated inside the earth (springs, earthquakes), in
the atmosphere (clouds, vapours, thunder, lightning, and thunderbolts), etc. ;
and the principle of motion in bodies, i.e., the soul in its various species in
man, animals, and plants." 25
Then he mentions the standard works on natural science. The physical parts
of the Aristotelian corpus, which have been followed, explained, and
commented on by Muslim authors, the most wellknown and reliable of these
being ibn Sina in the corresponding parts of his three major works (Shifa\
Najdt, and Ishardt), and ibn Rushd in his summaries of, and commentaries
on, Aristotle's works on physical sciences ; with the difference that ibn Sina
seems to disagree with Aristotle on many problems of natural science, while
ibn Rushd remains in close agreement with him. 26
These statements point to a conception of the character and scope of natural
science, and the order of its parts, which is not ibn Khaldim's own, but one
which was elaborated by ibn Sina and ibn Rushd on the basis of a tradition
initiated in Muslim philosophy by al-Farabi, and which has a firm foundation
in Aristotle's own writings on nature. Following the scheme suggested by
Aristotle, e.g., in the opening chapter of Meteorology, 27 these philosophers
included within natural science or natural philosophy the works beginning with
the Physics and ending with the De Anima and the Parva Naturalia, and ar-
ranged their objects, order, and rank, as follows: (1) The general or first prin-
ciples of all natural existents or of all that is constituted by nature, or "the first
23 See above, p. 890.
24 Q. Ill, 87:9-15.
25 Q. Ill, 116:12-17.
26 Q. Ill, 116-17. This judgment is based on ibn Sina's own statements and the
accusations levelled against him by ibn Rushd.
27 Meteorologica I, i. 338a 20-39a 9.
895
A History of Muslim Philosophy
causes of nature and all natural motion" (Physics); (2) the simple or primary .
parts of the world, or "the stars ordered in the motion of the heavens" (On
the Heaven and the World) ; (3) the motion of the natural elements, or their
generation and corruption, alteration, and growth (On Generation and Corrup-
tion) ; and (4) the accidents and affections common to the elements (Meteoro-
logy). Then follows the study of particular existents that are generated and
corrupted; (5) the minerals which are the simplest and closest to the elements
(On Minerals); (6) plants (On Plants); (7) animals (The Parts of Animals,
etc.); and (8) the general principles of the soul and its parts (On the Soul),
followed by the particular powers of the soul and the accidents existing in
plants and animals by virtue of their possessing soul (Parva Naturalia).™
According to this scheme, the science of the soul, which is the form of
animal and plant bodies, falls within the scope of the science of nature; and
the science of the intellect, which is one of the faculties of the soul, falls
within the scope of the science of the soul. This raises important problems as
to the connection of nature to soul, and of soul to intellect; and the study of
these connections certainly did not mean, nor did it lead to, the reduction of
one to the other. For the scheme was not merely a deductive one by which
the more complex is deduced from the more simple or the particular from
the general, but a methodological plan of investigation beginning with the
general and simple and leading to the particular and complex, recognizing
their substantial heterogeneity, and using observation, enumeration, and
induction, to a greater extent than, and in conjunction with, syllogistic
reasoning. Furthermore, the study of soul and intellect leads the investigator
to matters that are beyond nature, and that could no more be, strictly speak-
ing, considered within the scope of a natural investigation; but in this ease,
these matters cannot claim the advantages enjoyed by natural investigation
which are solidly based on human experience and perception. One could then
perhaps speak with ibn Rushd of the possibility of delimiting the investigation
of soul and intellect to what corresponds most to the manner of investigation
conducted, and, thus, arrive at explanations similar in character to those given
by natural science— taking this to be more fitting to the purpose of Aristotle. 29
But to grant the difficulties raised by this scheme does not alter the fact
that both for Aristotle and the Muslim philosophers mentioned above, the
28 Ibid., al-Farabi, Falsafah Aristutalis (The Philosophy of Aristotle), MS
Istanbul, Aya Sofia, No. 4833, fols. 34b ff.; ibn Sina, "al-Nafs," Skifd' II vi'
"Psychologie d'Ibn Sina (Avicenne) d'apres son ceuvre AS-Mfa,'" ed. JanBakos!
Prague, L'Academie Tchecoslovaque des Sciences, 1956, pp. 7-8 (where he defends
changing the order with respect to the soul and to treating it before plants and
animals); al-Najat, 2nd printing, Cairo, 1357/1938, Part II; 'Uyun al-Hikmah
(Fontes Sapientiae), ed. Abdurrahman Badawi (Memorial Avicenne V),' Cairo
Institute Francais d'Archeologie Orientate, 1954, pp. 16-46; ibn Rushd, Kitab
al-Alhar al-'Ulwiyyah, Hyderabad, Dairatul-Maarif, 1365/1945, pp. 2-5; "al-Nafs "
op. cit., pp. 1-5.
29 "al-Nafs," op. cit., p. 3.
Ibn Khaldun
inclusion of the study of soul and intellect within the general science of nature
is legitimate. Consequently, the study of man and of all that concerns man
is considered an integral part of the study of nature or of natural science.
This does not hold true only for his body in so far as it shares common pro-
perties with all natural bodies, for the properties of generation and corruption
which he shares with all composite things, and for the faculties of his soul
which he shares with plants and other animals, but also for his specific differen-
tiae as a rational being: his sociability and his association with others and
co-operation with them in the development of the arts; his appetites and
desires; his purposeful, organized social activity; his practical and theoretical
intellect; and his ability to comprehend things through visions, dreams, and
prophecy, and to use what he comprehends in ordering his political life. All
such matters are dealt with in the science of the soul. 30
Human association or culture, as ibn Khaldun conceived it, is a natural
property of man as a rational being. He intended to investigate its modes
or states, the various accidents that occur in it, and its generation and corrup-
tion; and to develop this investigation into a full-fledged inquiry or science.
Since the basis of man's sociability, and its primary manifestations, can
legitimately fall within the scope of natural science, the elaboration of this
natural property of man, and the investigation of the various aspects of social
organization to which it leads man, can also legitimately belong to natural
science and be counted as one of the natural sciences.
Whether the new science will in fact prove well-fitted to be considered a
natural science, will of course depend on whether it will remain loyal to the
method of investigation followed in the natural sciences. Ibn Khaldun was
aware of the fact that the subject he intended to investigate had been studied
in contexts other than natural science, notably in the Muslim legal sciences
and in the practical philosophic sciences. Thus, even if he had insisted on a
science of human association or culture which had to be a part of philosophy
or wisdom, he could have chosen to study it as a practical science. The reason
for not choosing this alternative will be discussed in a subsequent chapter. 31
It is sufficient in the present context to insist that what he sought was a
natural science of human association. He examined the works of Plato and
Aristotle, and of Muslim thinkers, and found 32 that they had not elaborated
such a science before. Thus he set out to make good this deficiency in the
natural sciences. But if he is to succeed in his effort, he must show unequi-
vocally that the new science is indeed being firmly established on the founda-
tion of natural philosophy.
30 Cf. the references given in note 42.
31 Below, Chap. XLIX.
32 To his surprise, for he expected to find such a science elaborated by them;
and only they could have elaborated it.
897
A History of Muslim Philosophy
The "History" was originally divided by ibn Khaldun into an "Introduc-
tion" (Muqaddimah) and three Books. The "Introduction" deals with the
problem of history in general, Book One contains the new science of culture,
Book Two contains the history of the Arabs and other peoples (except the
Berbers) down to ibn Khaldun's own time, and Book Three contains the
history of the Berbers in western Islam. 33
Muqaddimah is a technical term meaning "premise." It can be generally
denned as that upon which what follows depends and which does not itself
depend upon that which follows. 34 It can be a general discussion or explanation
introducing a subject, a book, or a science, the emphasis here being upon
what needs to precede these rather than that upon which they strictly depend.
In this sense the "Introduction" precedes the three Books and is a useful
discussion clarifying the problems that are to follow. But this "Introduction"
together with Book One came also to be known as the Mtiqaddimah, i.e.,
as an introduction to the last two Books, or the historical account proper.
This is a usage which is closer to the technical definition of the word, since,
as ibn Khaldun explains, the writing of a correct historical account depends
upon a prior understanding of the science of culture.
The proper technical definition of muqaddimah, however, which is the
specific definition used by logicians in the study of syllogism, induction, and
analogy, is "that upon which the soundness of the proof depends, without
an intermediary" or "a proposition made a part of syllogism or an argument." 35
Such a premise should be veracious and properly related to the question or
problem. It is of two kinds: (a) definitive (such as being primary, based on
observation or experience, or on multiple authoritative reports, or being
the conclusion of a syllogism based on such premises) and (b) based on opinion
(generally known or accepted notions, etc.). 38 These can be made the premises
of a single syllogism or argument, or of a whole science. In this latter case,
they are named the "premise(s) of the science" and are defined as those
upon which the setting out upon the science depends, and upon which its
problems depend. 37 Apart from the general usages mentioned above, ibn
Khaldun uses muqaddimah in this specific "logical" sense, 38 and the first
section of Book One, which treats "human culture in general," is made up
of six such premises. Since the new science "depends" upon the character of
these premises, we must examine them in detail.
33 Q. II, 16.
34 Al-Tahanawi, Kashshaf Istilahat al-Funun (A Dictionary of Technical Terms),
Eds. M. Wajih et at., Calcutta, Asiatic Society of Bengal, 1853-62, pp. 1215-21
1217:2-6.
33 Ibid., p. 1216 :4ff. <Cf. Q. I, 308:7-8, 345:20).
36 Ibid., pp. 1216:20-1217:2.
37 Ibid., p. 1217 :5ff.
38 Cf. Q. I, 71-78.
Ibn Khaldun
1. Association is necessary for man. — Ibn Khaldun presents this premise or
proposition as being the same as what the wise men express when they say
that "man is 'political' by nature, i.e., he cannot dispense with association,
which in their technical usage is the 'poUs 1 ; and this is the meaning of culture." 39
It is significant, however, that ibn Khaldun substitutes, here at the outset,
"necessary" for "by nature" ; and his explanation of this first premise indicates
that this substitution was deliberate on his part. For, the way he grounds
the need for association in human nature is by explaining that, while the
"animal natures" of human beings are the same as those of the rest of the
animals (in that like them they cannot exist except through nourishment and
self-defence), they are inferior to some animals in that the ability of a single
human being cannot possibly be equal to meeting his needs for nourishment
and self-defence. Therefore, man associates with others and develops the arts
and tools, and the social organizations, necessary for nourishing and defending
himself, not because his specifically "human nature" is essentially superior
to the rest of the animals, or because he needs these arts and tools and organiza-
tions to satisfy his specifically human needs, but because his natural con-
stitution is deficient for conducting a solitary fife, and because without associat-
ing with others he remains helpless and unable even to exist. 40
Thus, ibn Khaldun, while purporting simply to "explain" what the philo-
sophers meant by "man is political by nature," in fact concentrates on those
traits of man's animal nature which render association a necessary condition
for the very life and continued existence of man. Nevertheless, he emphasizes
that this premise and its explanation as he presents them are also based on
the conclusions of the investigation of animal and human natures conducted
by the philosophers and confirmed by the investigation of the organs of the
human body conducted by Galen — more specifically, that the "demonstra-
tion" of this premise was presented by the philosophers, 41 referring to the
appropriate passages of De Anima and the commentaries on them. 42 On the
surface, ibn Khaldun's only objection is to the attempt of the philosophers
to "add" a rational proof of prophecy to their demonstration of the political
nature of man, while in fact he seems also to object to the widening of the
scope of the proposition in such a manner as to state that association is
necessary for man's well-being in addition to its being necessary to his existence.
What he seems to indicate is that the study of human nature within the scope
of natural science cannot demonstrate this proposition in this wider sense;
therefore, the science of culture must restrict itself to accepting the proposition
39 Q.I, 68:14-16.
40 Q. I, 69-72.
41 Q.I, 68:14-16, 70:11-12, 72:3 and 7.
42 Cf. Q. II, 368-70, where the same argument is present in connection with
the practical intellect, with a similar reference to the philosophers. Aristotle, De
Anima, III, 4-7; ibn Sina, Nafs, pp. 198ff.; Najat, pp. 163-65; Kitab al-Isharat
iv-al-Tanbihdt (Le livre de theoremes et des avertissements), ed. J. Forget, Leyde,
E. J. Brill, 1892, pp. 134-37; l Uyun, pp. 40-46; ibn Rushd, Nafs, pp. 69-72.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
in its narrower sense, susceptible to demonstration within natural science,
only. In other words, according to him, the study of culture should be a
sociological one without ethical extensions.
2. Distribution of culture on earth.— This premise simply recounts what
has already been explained by the wise men who have contemplated the states
of the world relative to the shape of the earth, the generation of animals
and of the human species, and the inhabited parts of the earth; it is a
summary of the geography of the seven zones and the information available
concerning the conditions prevailing in each." Here, ibn Khaldun restates
the various conclusions demonstrated in such parts of natural philosophy as
the investigation of the nature of elements, of generation and corruption,
of minerals, and of localities of animals; 44 and completes them through
such information as has been supplied by observation and authenticated
multiple reports found in the works of astronomers, and, in particular, in
the works of Greek and Muslim geographers like Ptolemy, al-Mas'udi, and
al-Idrisi. 45 By calling these astronomers and geographers "wise men" or philo-
sophers, he indicates that their investigations fall within the scope of natural
philosophy. It is also in these works that the word 'umrdn, which ibn Khaldun
used as a technical term indicating the subject of his new science, is most
frequently encountered.
3. Temperate and intemperate zones, and the influence of the atmosphere
upon the colour of human beings and many of their states.— This premise is
again based on the investigation of the nature of generated beings, and the
nature of heat and cold and their influence upon the atmosphere and the
animals generated in it, proving that the colour of human beings and many
of their arts and modes of life are caused by atmospheric conditions. 46 The
only specific authority he invokes here is ibn Sum's rajaz poem on medicine. 47
He refutes the errors of genealogists which he attributes to their inattention
to the natural basis of such matters as colours and other characteristic traits. 48
Throughout, the emphasis is upon the natural (in contrast to the specifically
human or the divine) basis of culture as a whole; for, in addition to relatively
elementary things (such as colour and other bodily traits, and the manner
of preparing food and housing), ibn Khaldun indicates the dependence of
even the highly complex aspects of culture (such as the sciences, political
authority, and whether there are prophets, religions, and divine Laws) upon
the nature of the elements and their effects upon the atmosphere. 49
4. Influence of the atmosphere upon the habits of character [akhlaq] of
Q. I, 73-148.
Q. I, 73, 75, 82-85, 88-89, 94-95.
Q. I, 75, 82, 84-88, 92, 93, 97.
16 Q.I, 48ff., 151, 153-54.
Q. I, 153.
Q. I, 151, 154.
Q. I, 149-50, 153-54.
human beings. — Ibn Khaldun indicates that the valid causal explanation of
this premise has been established in the proper place in philosophy where
gladness and sadness are explained as the expansion and contraction of the
animal spirit, and are related to the more general premise establishing the
effect of heat in expanding the air. 60 This completely natural explanation,
founded on the properties of the elements, is made the basis of mirth, ex-
citability, levity, etc. In contrast, the opinion of al-Mas'udi (copying Galen
and al-Kindi), which attributes these habits of characters to the weakness
or the power of the brain, is considered inconclusive and undemonstrated. 61
5. Effects of the abundance and scarcity of food upon the bodies and habits
of character of human beings. — The causal explanation of this premise is based
on the investigation of the quantity of food and the moisture it contains in
the various localities of animals ; their action in expanding and contracting,
and in increasing and decreasing the moisture of the stomachs of all animals
including human beings ; and the effect of this upon the coarseness or delicacy
of bodies, and upon the habits of character of human beings, including their
piety and religion. 52 This natural causal explanation is based on experience
and confirmed by the students of agriculture. 53
6. Classes of those who perceive the "unseen" (ghaib) among human beings
by natural disposition or by exercise.™ — This premise is introduced in a discus-
sion on prophecy and dream-vision which deals with (1) practical guidance
as the aim of prophecy, and (2) the signs of prophetic mission : (a) the psycho-
logical state at the time of revelation, (b) good character prior to embarking
upon the prophetic mission, (c) the call to religion and worship, (d) noble
pedigree, and (e) marvels and miracles. The difference between the dialectical
theologians and the philosophers concerning how marvels and miracles take
place and concerning their significance, is presented primarily in terms of
whether they take place through the power of God or through the power of
the prophet himself. The philosophers assert the latter on the basis that
"the prophetic soul, among them, has essential properties from which these
invasions [of nature] (khawdriq) emanate through his [i.e., the prophet's]
power and the obedience of the elements to him in the generation [of these
invasions of nature]." 55
As distinct from this introduction, ibn Khaldun presents his own statement
(qaul) in which he sets down "the interpretation of the true meaning (haqlqah)
of prophecy as explained by men of verification (muhaqqiqun)," and mentions
the real meaning of soothsaying, dream-vision, etc. The verified interpretation
50 Q. I, 155-56.
51 Q. I, 157.
52 Q. I, 157-61, 165.
53 Q. I, 164.
54 Q. I, 165ff. The sections translated by D. B. Macdonald ( Tfie Religious Attitude
and Life in Islam, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1909, pp. 43ff.) remain
the most exact rendering of the Arabic text.
55 Q.I, 170:8-9.
901
A History of Muslim Philosophy
which ibn Khaldun adopts as the basis for his explanation of the true meaning
of these phenomena proves to be a summary recapitulation of the entire
subject of natural science, i.e., the observable world ('Slam) and the observable
effects of unseen powers; sensible bodies, the elements, the spheres, the gener-
ates (minerals, plants, and animals ending in man), and the human soul and
its powers. These powers are again arranged in an ascending order: (1) the
active powers; (2) the apprehensive powers which include (a) external senses
(b) internal senses, i.e., (i) common sense, (ii) imagination, (iii) estimation'
(it) memory, and (v) the power of thought which the philosophers call the
rational or calculative (natiqak) power.
"They all ascend to the power of thought [intellect] the instrument of
which is the middle hollow of the brain. It is the power by which take place
the movement of deliberation and the turn toward intellection; the soul is
moved by it [i.e., this power] constantly through the longing instituted in it
[i.e., the soul] towards that [intellection], to deliver [itself] from the abyss
of potency and preparedness which belongs to human [nature] and to come
out into act in its intellection [with which] it makes itself like the Heavenly
Spiritual Host and comes at the lowest rank of the Spiritualities when it
apprehends without bodily instruments. Thus, it moves constantly and turns
toward that [intellection]. It may pass over altogether from human [nature]
and its form of spirituality to the angelic [nature] of the upper region, not
by [any] acquiring [of something from outside], but by the original and primary
natural disposition toward it which God has placed in it." 66 On the basis of
the structure and nature of the observable world, and the structure and nature
of the human soul, and on the basis of the natural powers inherent in the latter
ibn Khaldun proceeds to classify and explain the various types of the activity
of the soul in relation to the unseen world.
Thus, ibn Khaldun's own explanation of the foundation and the true mean-
mg of these phenomena can be seen to be indeed based on the explanations
of the natural world, and of the nature and powers of the human soul, as
presented by "most" philosophers. Like them, he considers all such activities
to be grounded throughout in the natural properties of the human soul which
in turn, is closely related to the human body and the world of generation, of
the elements, of sensible bodies, and of their motion and rest." All other
explanations are the "guesses and conjectures" of those who are not well
grounded in these matters or who accept them from those who are not such,
and are "not based on demonstration or verification." 58
These, then, are the premises, and the only premises, of ibn Khaldun's
new science of culture. Even a superficial examination of them reveals that
5S Q. I, 176:9-18. Cf. Macdonald, op. cit., p. 57.
57 Q. I, 181, 186-87, 190, 192-93.
58 Q. I, 196, 203-04.
Ibn Khaldun
they are all conclusions of mquiries undertaken by other sciences which are
all natural sciences. The new science of culture, therefore, does not make a
clear, a first, or a true beginning; it is not a presuppositionless science. It
presupposes not only all the natural sciences that have provided it with
its premises, but also the validity of their principles, the soundness of their
procedures and explanations, and the veracity of their judgments and con-
clusions.
The inquiry into the place of ibn Khaldun's new science of culture within
the Muslim philosophic tradition thus indicates beyond reasonable doubt
that (a) ibn Khaldun conceived of the new science as a philosophic science,
and that by philosophy he understood the sciences originated by the Socratic
school, and elaborated by Aristotle and his Muslim followers; (b) the new
science falls within the general scope of traditional natural science or natural
philosophy; and (c) more specially, all of its premises are drawn exclusively
from the various natural sciences, and, thus, it is indeed firmly grounded in
these sciences because it presupposes their conclusions, and builds itself on
that firm foundation.
Ibn Khaldun's science of culture was conceived by him as a contribution
to the established philosophic sciences within a limited field. The grounds for
this science, or its basic premises, were already established by traditional
natural science or natural philosophy. No philosopher before him had used
these premises to develop a science of human association or culture based
exclusively on them. The Greek and Muslim philosophers, with whose works
on practical philosophy ibn Khaldun was acquainted, invariably found it
necessary to proceed by utilizing other premises which could not claim the
same solidity and demonstrable character as the premises provided by natural
philosophy. Therefore, the understanding of the specific character of ibn
Khaldun's contribution requires an examination of the relation between his
new science of culture and traditional Greek and Muslim political philosophy.
This will be attempted in Chapter XLIX of this work.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
The following list contains ibn Khaldun's surviving works (cf. above, n. 1). For
a more detailed bibliographj' - of editions, translations, and studies, cf. Walter
J. Fischel, "Selected Bibliography" in F. Rosenthal's translation cited below, Vol.
Ill, pp. 485-512.
Kitab al-'Ibar (The History), ed. Nasr al-Htirlni, 7 Vols., Bulaq, 1284/1867;
Muqaddimat Ibn Khaldun (Prolegomenes d'Ebn-Khaldoun), ed. E. M. Quatremere
("Notice et extraits des manuscrits de la Bibliotheque du Roi et autres biblio-
theques, publies par l'lnstitut Imperial de France," t. 16-18, premieres parties;
also "Tirage a part des . . ."), Paris, 1858. The three volumes correspond to the
Bulaq ed., Vol. I ; The Muqaddimah: An Introduction to History, English tr. by Franz
Rosenthal (Bollingen Series XLIII), 3 Vols., Pantheon, New York, 1958; Les
proligomlnes d'Ibn Khaldoun, French tr. by M. de Slane, 3 Vols., Librairie Orien-
903
L
A History of Muslim Philosophy
taliste Paul Geuthner, Paris, 1934-38- al Tn'rif hi „a itj. »_,-
al-Dln (Extracts from Fakhr al-Dln ZXLZ M \ ' L f ab j al - Muf .^sal fi Usui
Editori Marroqul Tetuan^L ^f-' T^f, U ^ ?al} ' e± R Luciano R^bio,
Question, on S^Z^li^,.^ *
paration by Tanji. C| Uar al-Kutub, Cairo, edition in pre-
Part 5. The Middle-Roade]
Chapter XLVII
THE SCHOOL OF ISPAHAN
INTRODUCTION
Jl]"f°Tr?^ m ° St CUri ° US aSp6Cts ° f the Weste ™ study of Muslim
intellectual hfe that with one or two exceptions practically no serious reseat
has_ ever been made into the spiritual and intellectual treasures o^ Se
53S=^C^t lis*
™ <V*™*). '<** refuge after the seventh/thirteenth oenturv this
.gnoranee has helped to strengthen the totaHy erroneous notion Z SanS
into .complete decadence after the Mongol invasion. Just as a closer stadl
of the Mushm world at large will show that in art, govern™ „t Sufll S
lamy recently, a study of the Si'ah world will reveal that even in the science,
nhdosophy, and gnosis the Muslims have, with one gap of a centurTana a
half, con hnued to flourish up to the present century It will reveal ttaHtt
as §afaw,d art is one of the high points of Muslim art, so is the tellee u"
"feofSh^ m this period one of the apogees, of Muslim history, prtdu'ing
u/o„Vrtai„~ of S^iwrS^ * I 1 ,?"™ ta ™ ^^
Shihab al-Dln Suhrawardi SaqtuF. W1Sd ° m ' "** t0 the cha P ter on
904
The School of Ispahan
sages like Sadr al-Din Shirazi, usually known as Mulla Sadra. Perhaps one day
histories of philosophy will not have chapters on Islam which end abruptly
with ibn Rushd or possibly ibn Khaldun but will trace the chain to the present
century and end once and for all the dangerous illusion that the present-day
Muslims are separated from their own tradition by centuries of intellectual
"vacuum." Our aim in this chapter is hardly one of filling this lacuna ; rather it
is to give some of the background and intellectual perspectives of Safawid
Persia, where Twelve-Imam Shi'ism became for the first time a completely
independent political and cultural entity, an entity which has dominated
every phase of life in Persia ever since.
The coming to power of the Safawids in Persia is one of the most fascinating
chapters of Muslim history and marks one of the instances in which the
influence of Sufism upon the social and political life of Islam is felt directly.
Beginning as a Sufi brotherhood which traced its lineage as well as its name
to the great saint Shaikh Safi al-Din Ardibili, 3 the Safawids soon developed
into a well-organized political force which was to conquer the whole of Persia
and to weld it into a political unity for the first time since the fall of the
Sassanid Empire. The Sufi order continued under the spiritual direction of
a series of descendants of Shaikh Safi, and its members in the ninth/fifteenth
century adopted a twelve-sided red hat for which they became known as the
qizil-hdsh (red heads). The order grew in power in the politically disorganized
Persia of the ninth/fifteenth century and under Isma'il (892/1487-930/1523-24)
succeeded in defeating the local rulers and unifying the whole of Persia.
Shah Isma'il was crowned in Tabriz in 905/1499 marking the beginning
of the reign of the Safawids which was to last over two centuries until in
1133/1720 the Afghans conquered Persia, sacked the Safawid capital at
Ispahan, and killed Shah Husain, the last of the Safawid rulers. During this
period Persia, which until now had been partly Shl'ah and partly Sunni,
wavering between these two orthodox perspectives of the Islamic revelation,
became completely Twelve-Imam Shl'ah, and Shi'ism, which had until now
remained a minority creed, found itself as the official religion of an empire
and had to face political and social issues it had never been forced to face
before. 4
3 Shaikh Safi (647/1249-735/1334), one of the most important of Shi'ah Sufi
saints, is still greatly respected by the Sufis; his tomb in Ardibil has remained
until today an important place of pilgrimage. Being the disciple of Shaikh Zahid
Gilani, he was already a significant figure in his own day as testified by the biogra-
phical works like the Safwat al-Safd' by ibn Bazzaz, and Kashid al-Din Fadl Allah's
letters to the saint and to the governor of Ardibil in his Munshaat-i Eashidi. See
also, E. G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia, Vol. IV, Cambridge University
Press, Cambridge, 1924, Chap. II.
4 For a history of the Safawid period, see E. G. Browne, op. cit., Vol. IV; L. Lock-
hart, The Fall of the Safawid Dynasty and the Afghan Occupation of Persia, Cam-
bridge University Press, Cambridge, 1958, and the traditional Persian sources of
which some of the more important include the Safauxd al-Safa' by ibn Bazzaz,
905
{
A History of Muslim Philosophy
No longer molested by an external force and faced with a large number of
practical social problems, Shi'ah theology, Kalam, which had always served
as the walls of the citadel of the faith,* lost much of its earlier vigour while
jurisprudence, Fiqh, having to face new situations, became highly developed.
More important for our purpose is the fact that the predominantly Shi'ah
culture of Persia prepared the background for the flourishing of the doctrines
of ishrdqi gnosis (illuministic wisdom),* philosophy, and the sciences The
efforts of the chain of sages after Khwajah Nasir al-Din Tusi, who had kept
the study of these subjects alive, suddenly found the necessary environment
for the development of this form of wisdom.' We have connected this wisdom
symbolically with the school of Ispahan, which spread throughout Safawid
Persia as well as in Iraq, Syria, and India with which the Persians had very
close contacts. The centres of its life were not only Ispahan, the Safawid
capital, but also other cities like Shiraz, Kashan, Qazwin, and Tabriz. Further-
more, some of the most important figures like Shaikh Baha' al-Din Amili
and Sayyid Ni'matullah Jaza'iri, who played a vital role in the establishment
of Shi'ism in Persia, were Arabs from Amil near Damascus and Bahrain, two
centres which had been preserving the Shi'ah tradition for centuries. 8
The Shi'ahs have developed the Ja'fari school of Law named after the sixth
Imam, Imam Ja'far al-Sadiq, as well as theology (Kalam) and other traditional
studies, namely, language, history, Hadith and commentary upon the Qur'an,
jurisprudenc e (Fiqh), principles of jurisprudence (Usui)* theology, 1 " and
AJisan ^-Tawarm by Hasan Baik Rumlu, Zubdat al-Tawarikh by Muhammad
Mnhsm ibn AM al-Karlm, and the universal history Nasikh al-Tawarlkh by
Mirza Taqi Sipihr. — y
5 The purpose of theology is to protect the truths of a revelation against false
reasoning; its role is, therefore, defensive. It is the shell which protects the inner
spmtual life not that life itself. If there were no danger of rationalism and fake
reasoning, there would be no need for theology. We, therefore, see theology coming
into being with rationalistic philosophy, and where there is no tendency toward
rationalism, there is no theology as this word is currently understood
For a discussion of the meaning of ishrdqi wisdom, refer to the chapter on
ftuhrawardi Maqtul. ^
\ T u He f.^ 011 , Why the P re ~?afawid sages of Persia like 'AH Turkah Ispahan!
and ibn abi Jumhur as well as the Safawid authors themselves have been neglected
in the Western world is that the quality of their wisdom is primarily gnostic
(irjam) like that of Shaikh al-Akbar Muhyi al-Din ibn 'Arabi by whose doctrines
they were all influenced; that like him they can be understood neither by the
rationalistic philosophers nor by the mystics as they have come to be understood
since the Renaissance.
v 8 i t^ X! "^rf S ° me ° f these Arab m ' ah scholar s. see E. B. Browne, op. cit.,
vol. IV , (Jnap. VIII.
• The science of Usui as an independent science has grown into monumental
lh°™ Tt 0r ? y * m thG paSt feW centuriea reaching its height in the hands of
Shaikh Murtada Ansari, the famous doctor of the Qajar period, who only a century
a f* ^f** 7 ^ into a scien ce matching Kalam in its logical subtleties.
Shi ah theology reached its height in the seventh/thirteenth century in the
hands of men like Khwajah Nasir al-Din Tusi and 'AUamah-i Hilli.
906
The School of Ispahan
Hikmat, this last being a combination of gnosis, theosophy, and philosophy
which forms the main subject of our present study.
HIKMAT
The form of wisdom which has survived until today in the Shi'ah world
as Hikmat can neither be wholly identified with philosophy as currently under-
stood in the West, nor with theosophy which has unfortunately become iden-
tified in the English-speaking world with pseudo-spiritualist movements, nor
with theology. 11 As developed in the Safawid period and continued to the
present day, Hikmat consists of several threads knit together by the matrix
of Shi'ism. The most important of these elements are the esoteric teachings
of the Imams, especially as contained in the Nahj al-Baldghah by the first
Imam 'Ali, the ishrdqi wisdom of Suhrawardi which contains in itself aspects
of ancient Persian and Hermetic doctrines, the teachings of the earlier Sufis,
especially the gnostic doctrines of ibn 'Arabi, and the heritage of the Greek
philosophers. It is, therefore, not too surprising if many of the treatises on
Hikmat begin with logic and end with ecstasy experienced in the catharsis
(tajrld) and iUumination of the intellect. They contain as a necessary basis
some preparation in logic which they share with the Peripatetics (Masha'iyun),
but instead of remaining bound to the plane of reason they use this logic as
a springboard for their flight into the heaven of gnosis.
The group of sages who between the death of ibn Rushd, the so-called
terminating point of Muslim philosophy, and the Safawids prepared the
ground for the intellectual revival of the school of Ispahan are usually not
much better known outside Persia than the Safawid sages themselves.
They include a series of philosophers and scientists like Khwajah Nasir al-Din
Tusi, better known in the Western world as a scientist than a philosopher and
theologian, Qutb al-Din Razi, Mir Sayyid Sharif Jurjani, Jala! al-Din Daw-
wani, and ibn Turkah Ispahani, 12 all of whom sought to reconstruct Muslim
intellectual life through a gnostic interpretation of the writings of ibn Sina,
Suhrawardi, and the Sufis, and who carried further the attempt already begun
by al-Farabi, extended by ibn Sina in his Qur'anic commentaries, and carried
a step further by Suhrawardi, to correlate faith (iman) with philosophy. 13
The precursors of the Safawid sages include also a series of pure gnostics,
11 See the chapter on Suhrawardi Maqtul. Generally, Hikmah in Arabic or
Hikmat in Persian means wisdom in addition to the particular sense given to it
as a divine science.
12 For the series of commentators and expositors of ishrdqi wisdom, see the
chapter on Suhrawardi Maqtul.
13 It is unfortunate that in books treating of the relation between faith and
reason in Islam like A. J. Arberry's Revelation and Reason in Islam, London,
1957, most of these authors are not taken into serious consideration.
907
A History of Muslim Philosophy
both Shi'ah and Sunni, although this distinction is not essential in Sufism
who spread the doctrines of ibn 'Arabi, the Andalusian sage and the f^ZS
of gnostzc doctrines in Islam in the Eastern lands Jl^»£Zl££
Ala al-Daulah Sunmuu » 'Abd al-Rahman Jami," and two others who" are
rSS t ^f ^ ^ gn ° StiC d ° CtrineS 0f ib » 'Arabi into
the hj» ah world, ibn abi JumhQr and Mulla Haidar 'Ali Amfili » One must
also menfcon another great spiritual leader, Maulana Jalal al- D fn R^f
wW mfluence has extended throughout Persia during the past seven 0^
MAJOR FIGURES OF THE SCHOOL OF ISPAHAN
of SetS^T eV T thG r re nameS and W ° rks ° f a11 the ™P«rtant authors
of the Safawid penod would in itself require a book because m nearly every
fill r fT SCienC T e ^^ n ° tabIe fi S Ures arose d ™g tto period of grelt
T a i?™^ 1011 onl y a few na ™*» ^e that of Zain al-Din ibn 'Ali ibn
»£ ft- "• l 11/1505 -?f /1558) ' C ° mm °^ k — - ^e second tartyr
Sf LH T Se ° f h " haVing been P Ut to death ^ the Ottomans the
All ibn Abd al- All Amih known as Muhaqqiq-i Karaki (d 94^/1 ™*\ u,
toes, the t»»i,k„, Muhammad Taqi (1003/1594-1070/1659), the author
of Rauda, al-Mnlhqln, and his son Muhammad Baqir (1037/162^1110/S
U» greatest of the Safa.id theologians and seholal I J om ^eiTZ
14 For an account of the doctrines of ibn 'Arabi, see T BnrckarHt /TV ^ r
sagesse des prophetes Pari* iq**. i „ ■■, r * , - *»urckardt (Tr. , Za
Matheson, Sh Muhammad A*™^ i ' i""?*"*™ to <^ ^««, tr. M.
crecririce Aiim fa soufhme /ibn 'TrL, "J Se6 ^° C ° rbln ' ^"^nation
«. -*■ ^^iLIMsss SfEaT' whioh ~- ta
18S4/HI5 ' ' *"* '^ °'' D<, " ( » ft S *»»«. Dta'A *«*. Teheran,
at-Nusila. London, 1928, the ^«Aao< al-Lama'at, and the JVogrf
Shi'ah gnostic doctSes ^ "* am0ng the m ° st im P-tant sources of
oll^^VS^S SZTk^ ^^ a** -*»«»- «™ the iWa,
The School of Ispahan
As for the hukamd', those who cultivated this particular form of wisdom
which they called Hikmat, they include Sadr al-Din ghirazi, better known as
Mulla Sadra, to whom a separate chapter has been devoted in the present
work, Sayyid Ahmad 'Alawi, Mir Damad's son-in-law and the commentator
of ibn Sina's Shifd', Mulla Muhammad Baqir Sabziwari (d. 1090/1669), the
commentator of the Isharat and the metaphysics of the Shifd', and of the Dha-
hhlrat al-Ma'dfi, Rajab 'Ali Tabrizi (d. 1080 */1670), a thinker with nominalist
tendencies and the author of Risdkh-i Ithbdt-i Wujvd, 'Abd al-Razzaq Lahiji
(d. 1071/1661), a student of Mulla Sadra and author of some of the most
important books on Hikmat in Persian like the Guhar Murdd, Sarmdyeh-i
Imdn, and the Mashdriq al-Ilhdm, glosses upon the commentary of Khwajah
Nasir al-Din Tiisi upon the Isharat, and a commentary upon Suhrawardi's
Haydkil al-Nur, and Qadi Sa'id Qumi (1049/1640-1103 ?/1692), a gnostic and
theologian, the author of the Arba'indt, Kilid-i Bihisht, and a commentary
upon the Athulujlyya attributed to Aristotle but now known to be a para-
phrasis of the Enneads of Plotinus.
In addition to these authors, there are a few other major figures about
whom we have chosen to speak somewhat more fully hoping that in this
way we can depict the various aspects of the intellectual life of the Safawid
period. These figures include Shaikh Baha' al-Din 'Amili, Mir Damad, 19 per-
haps the central figure in the school of Ispahan, Mir abu al-Qasim Findiriski,
Mulla Muhsin Faid Kashi, and the second Majlisi whom we have already
mentioned.
If space had allowed, we would have also considered the purely Sufi writings
like the commentary upon the Gulshan-i Rdz by Muhammad Lahiji, which
is one of the best books on Sufism in Persian, and the works by the masters
of other Sufi orders like the Tuhfih-t 'Abbdsi by the dhahabi shaikh, Shaikh
Mu'adhdhin Khurasani.
Shaikh Baha' al-Din 'Amili.— The most colourful figure of the Safawid
period was without doubt Baha' al-Din 'Amili, better known as Shaikh-i
Baha'i. 20 His father was the leader of the Shi'ah community of 'Amil and a
student of Shahld-i Thani. After his teacher's death in 966/1559, he set out
with his son towards Persia. Baha' al-Din, who was born in Baalbek in 953/
1546, was then only thirteen years old and well qualified to master the Persian
language. In Persia he continued his studies in the religious sciences, poetry,
the Tarikh-i 'Alam Ara-yi 'Abbdsi of Iskandar Baig Munshi, Teheran, 1334/1915;
and of more recent composition the Raihanat al-Adab of Muhammad 'Ali Tabrizi,
Sa'di Press, Teheran, 1331-33 Solar; the Qi ? as al-'Ulama' of Mirza Muhammad
Tunikabuni, Islamiyyah Press, Teheran, 1313 Solar; Fihrist-i Kuivh-i Ihda'l-i
Aqa-yi Mishkdt by M. B. Danish Pazhuh, University Press, Teheran, 1335/1916;
see also H. Corbin, "Confession extatiques de Mir Damad" in the Melanges Louis
Massignon, Institut Francais de Damas, Damas, 1956, pp. 331-78.
19 See Corbin, op. cit., pp. 333 ff.
20 His name should not in any way be connected with the heterodox Baha'i
movement of the thirteenth/nineteenth century.
909
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and Hikmat and soon became the leading scholar of his day and the Shaikh
al- Islam of Ispahan. Despite his nearness to the Court and necessary participa-
tion in worldly life he was a gnostic and spent many of the last years of his
life travelling with the dervishes and visiting various Sufi masters. He finally
passed away in 1030/1622 while returning from the hajj. 21
Shaikh Baha' al-Din was the leading theologian and jurist of his time and
the leader of the 'ulama' of Ispahan. He was at the same time an outstanding
Sufi, one of the best of the Safawid poets who revived the 'Iraqi style and
wrote poetry in the tradition of Rumi and Hafi?, the leading architect of the
Safawid period, whose masterpieces like the Shah mosque of Ispahan still
stand among the summits of Muslim architecture, 22 and the greatest mathe-
matician and astronomer of his period.
In an age when the theologians, jurists, Hakims, natural historians, sophists
logicians, and Sufis were well-marked groups, sometimes in external conflict
with one another, Shaikh-i Baha'i was respected by all these groups, from the
wandering dervishes, the qalandars, to the Court 'ulama' each of which con-
sidered the Shaikh its own. His genius lay precisely in showing the nothingness
of all sciences before divine gnosis, while at the same time having a mastery
of each science. Yet each of Shaikh-i BahaTs writings has become a standard
source of reference in its own field. Some of his important works include
Jami'-t 'Abbasi on theology in Persian; Faiod'id al-Samadiyyah on Arabic
grammar which is still in wide use; a treatise on algebra, the Khulasah fi
aLHisab™ several treatises on astronomy including the Tashrih cd-Afldk- a
treatise on the astrolabe, 'Urwat alWuthqa; general Qur'anic commentaries-
many works on various aspects of the Shari'ah; the Kashkul, a collection of
Arabic and Persian writings which ranks among the most famous Sufi works-
and a series of mathnawls like Bread and Sweet, Cat and Mouse, Milk and
Sugar, and the TM-Ndmeh. 24
It is especially in the didactic poems, the mathnawls, that the particular
genius of Shaikh-i Baha'i for expressing sublime truth in simple language and
in witty ane cdotes becomes manifest. In these poems his spirit is very similar
21 ^or an account of the life and works of Shaikh-i Baha'i, see Tarlkh-i 'Alam
Ara-yvAbbam pp. 155-57; also Naficy, Ahwal wa A&ar-i FarsU Shaikh-i BahaH,
fcqbal Press, Teheran, 1316/1898. ~~ ~~ '
" Shaikh-i Baha'i is said to have built a bath-house named Gulkhan which had
always hot water without any fuel being used in it. When it was pulled down, people
discovered a single candle burning under the water tank.
23 This book on mathematics which helped greatly in reviving the study of the
mathematical sciences in Persia was a standard text-book for centuries and has
SL7TS U ^° n 8eVei f 1 timeS and translated into ^rsian by Muhammad
Amm Najafi Hijazi Qumi and into German by G. H. F. Nesselmann who published
the text and the translation in Berlin in 1843. Shaikh-i Baha'i revived the study
oi mathematics and astronomy in Persia after one hundred years of neglect, having
himself learnt these sciences in Herat. S
a 2 *- FOr E f- liSt °1^ nearly l6net y works attributed to him, see his Kulliyat-i
Asn ar-i tarsi, ed. M. Tauhidipur, Mahmudi Press, Teheran, 1336/1917, pp. 42-45.
910
The School of Ispahan
to that of Maulana Jalal al-Din Rumi whom he follows in spirit as well as in
form. In the long poem the Cat and the Mouse in which the cat symbolizes
exoteric and formal knowledge and the mouse esotericism, the theme is the
danger of hypocrisy which the exoteric view always faces and the necessity in
the religious and social structure for esoteric knowledge. Shaikh-i Baha'i also
emphasizes throughout the work the supremacy of intellectual intuition
over discursive knowledge. As an example we mention below the story of
a Mu'tazilite and a Sufi who appears in the guise of a madman named
Buhlul.
During the reign of one of the Caliphs, a Mu'tazilite was chosen as the
Imam of a mosque. One day Buhlul entered the mosque with a brick hidden
under his dress and joined the congregation after the prayers to listen to the
Imam's sermon. The Imam in the Mu'tazilite fashion mentioned that Satan
is not harmed in hell because he is made of fire and since a thing cannot harm
its own kind, the fire of hell cannot harm him. Upon hearing this, Buhlul
became irifuriated but held back his anger. The Imam continued his sermon
by saying that both good and evil are by divine consent. Again Buhlul became
angry but once again succeeded in remaining quiet. The Imam added that
on the Day of Judgment man would be actually able to see God. Upon hearing
this, Buhlul took out the brick from under his dress, threw it at the Imam
breaking his head and ran away. The Caliph raging with fury was about to
call for Buhlul when Buhlul himself walked into the palace and without any
greetings sat at the head of the Court. The Caliph asked him with great anger
as to why he had attacked the Imam. Buhlul answered by pleading to the
Caliph to give him permission to explain how by his act he had done nothing
discourteous, and when given the permission addressed the bleeding Imam
and said that since according to his own words a thing cannot harm its own
kind, a brick cannot harm the Imam's head since both are made of clay.
Furthermore, he asked the Imam if he had felt any pain upon being hit on the
head and if he could see the pain. Upon getting the reply that the Imam did
not see the pain, Buhlul asked how could a man unable to see pain, a creation
of God, see the Creator. Finally, Buhlul added that since all acts are done
through divine consent, God must have given consent to his throwing the
brick and so the Imam should not complain of an act to which God had
consented. Upon hearing this, the Imam, the symbol of rationalism, had to
remain silent before Buhlul, the symbol of intellectual intuition. 26
The writings of Shaikh-i Baha'i are also replete with passages about the
nothingness of all human knowledge as against divine gnosis. For example, in
the poem Nan wa Halwah (Bread and Sweet) he says:
Formal science is nothing but altercation ;
It results in neither intoxication 26 nor contemplation.
' Ibid., pp. 164-66.
1 Intoxication symbolizes
and spiritual union.
911
1
A History of Muslim Philosophy
It continually brings congelation to man's nature ;
What's more, the Maulana 27 does not believe in it.
If someone tells thee that of thy life,
There remains with certainty but a week,
Thou in this one week will busy thyself
With which science, O accomplished man!
There is no science but the science of love, 28
The rest is the deception of the wretched Satan.
There is no science but the Qur'anic commentary and Hadith,
The rest is the deception of the perverse Satan.
The mysteries will never become known to thee,
If thou hast for student a hundred Fakhr-i Razi. 29
All who do not love the face of the beautiful
The saddle and the rein are appropriate for them. 30
That is, he who does not have love for the Friend,
Bring for him the saddle and the headstall. 31
He who has not fallen in love with his beautiful Face,
Erase his name from the tablet of humanity.
A breast that is empty of the love of the Beautiful,
Is an old leather bag full of bones.
A breast if devoid of the Beloved,
Is not a breast but an old chest.
A heart which is empty of the love of that Beauty,
Count it as a stone with which the Devil cleans himself.
These sciences, these forms and imaginings,
Are the excrements of Satan upon that stone.
If thou allowest other than the science of love in thy heart,
Thou wilt be giving Satan the stone to clean himself.
Be ashamed of thyself, O ! villain,
That thou carriest the Devil's cleaning stone in thy pocket.
Wash the tablet of the heart from the Devil's excrement ;
O ! teacher, give also the lesson of love.
How long wilt thou teach the wisdom of the Greeks ?
Learn also the wisdom of those who have faith. 32
27 Maulana Jalai al-Dln Rumi is commonly referred to as Maulawi in Persian.
This verse refers to Maulawi's well-known rejection of rationalism in favour of
gnosis (The leg of the rationelist is a wooden leg . . .).
28 Love symbolizes gnosis or the science which comes through contemplation
and illumination rather than analysis and discursive thought.
29 Reference is to the famous theologian Imam Fakhr al-Din Razi.
30 This verse is in Arabic and is repeated immediately with only a little change
in Persian.
31 That is, he is like a beast of burden.
3S Reference is to the wisdom of the Sufis as constrasted with that of the Greeks,
the Hikmat-i Imani and the Hikmat-i Yunani.
912
The School of Ispahan
How long with this jurisprudence and baseless theology,
Wilt thou empty thy brain ? ! exuberant one,
Thy life is spent in discussing conjugation and syntax,
Learn also a few words about the principles of love.
Illuminate thy heart with resplendent lights,
How long wilt thou lick the bowl of Avicenna ?
The Lord of the universe, the King of this world and the next 33
Called the left-over of the believer a remedy, ! grieved one,
But the left-over of Aristotle and Avicenna,
When has the illuminated Prophet called it a remedy ?
Go rip thy breast in a hundred places,
And clear thy heart of all these stains. 34
Not only does Shaikh-i Baha'i suggest that man should not busy himself
solely with formal science and that he should seek to reach the divine gnosis
hidden in the revelation, but he also reminds man that he should not become
so accustomed to this world as to forget his original home. It has been a
constant theme of the gnostics throughout the ages that the spiritual man
being a stranger in this world must take the perilous journey to return to
his original abode. 35 In the same Nan wa HoUwah, while commenting upon
the Prophet's saying: "The love of the country comes from faith," he writes: 36
"This country is not Egypt, Iraq, or Syria,
It is a city which has no name.
Since all these countries belong to this world,
The noble man will never praise them.
The love of this world is the source of all evil,
And from evil comes the loss of faith.
Happy is the person who, through divine guidance,
Is led in the direction of that nameless city.
O! son, thou art a stranger in these countries;
How wretched art thou to have become accustomed to it !
Thou hast remained so long in the city of the body,
That thou hast completely forgotten thy own country.
Turn away from the body and gladden thy soul,
And remember thy original home.
L
33 The Prophet Muhammad (upon whom be peace).
34 Shaikh-i Baha'i, Kulliyat . . ., pp. 18-19.
35 This theme appears in certain Hermetic writings, the Acts of Thomas, the
Grail story, as well as in Islam in the visionary narratives of ibn Sina and many
of Suhrawardi's gnostic tracts like Qissah Ghurbat al-Gharbiyyah; see H. Corbin,
Avicinneet le rScit visionnaire, InstitutFranco-Iranien,Teheran,andA.Maisonneuve,
Paris, 1952-54, Vol.1, Chap. 3, and Suhrawardi, Oeuvres philosophiques et mystiques,
Vol. II, Institut Franco-Iranien, Teheran, and A. Maisonneuve, Paris, 1954, Prol<5-
gomene by H. Corbin.
36 Shaikh-i Baha'i, Kulliyat . . ., p. 23.
913
. A History of Muslim Philosophy
How long wilt thou, ! victorious falcon,
Remain away from the sphere of the spirit ?
It is a shame for thee, 0! artful one,
To shed thy feathers in this ruin.
How long, O! hoopoe of the city of Saba, 37
Wilt thou remain in estrangement with feet tied %
Seek to untie the cords from thy feet,
And fly where 'there is no space.' " 38
Shaikh-i Baha'i was one of those rare falcons who, while outwardly in the
midst of this world, had flown to the "land of nowhere." He did not write in
the technical sense so much about Hikmat as Mir Damad or Mulla Muhsin Paid
did, but he reached such a degree of spiritual realization above and beyond
theoretical formulations that all of his writings are spiritually precious. Even
his compositions in the various religious and natural sciences bear the perfume
of his spirituality. His writings present a balance between the exoteric and
the esoteric, the metaphysical and the cosmological, which serves as an
example of what the relation between the various aspects of a tradition might
be and could be when the principial integrating influence of gnosis is present.
Mir DamM.—Qne of the most influential figures of the Safawid school was
Muhammad Baqir Damad, better known as Mir Damad. He and his pupil,
Mulla Sadra, must be considered to be the greatest Hakims of the period'
Being the grandson of Muhaqqiq-i Karaki and descendant of a distinguished
Shi'ah family, Mir Damad received the best education possible in all branches
of religious learning. His most famous teacher was Shaikh Husain ibn 'Abd
al-Samad 'Amili, the father of Shaikh-i Baha'i, who later on became his most
intimate friend and companion at the Safawid Court. 39 Mir Damad soon
became a leading authority on Kalam, Hikmat, Fiqh and even in the occult
and natural sciences. 40 In Ispahan he attracted numerous students to him-
self. His most famous disciples were Mulla Sadra, Sayyid Ahmad 'Alawi, the
commentator of the Shifd', Mulla Khalil Qazwmi whose commentary upon
the Usui al-Kdfi is very well known in Persia, and Qutb al-Dln Ashkiwari,
the author of a universal sacred history and several philosophical and gnostic
37 A city in the south of Arabia with which the name of the Queen of Sheba is
associated. —
38 La makan, meaning beyond the world of cosmic manifestation. Suhrawardi
rofers to this point which is the top of the cosmic mountain Qaf, as na kuja abad;
see Suhrawardi, "Le bruissement de l'aile de Gabriel," tr. H. Corbin and P Kraus
Journal Asiatique, Juillet-Sept., 1935, pp. 41-42.
° 9 Fo f™ accoun * of the life and writings of Mir Damad, see M. Tunikabuni
Qisas al-Ulama, pp. 333-35; Raihanat al-Adab, Vol. IV, pp. 117-21- Baudat
al-Jannat, pp. 114-16; Tartkh-i <Alam Ara-yi 'Abbasi, pp. 146-47; Danish Pazhuh,
f £ A ' Z ' *' P ' 152 and the good Production to his life and thought
by a. Corbin, Confessions extatiques de Mir Damad," pp. 340ff.
" It is said that he had much interest in the life of the bees and had accu-
mulated a good deal of observational data about them.
The School of Ispahan
treatises. 41 Mir Damad more than anyone else was responsible for the revivi-
fication of ibn Sina's philosophy and ishrdqi wisdom within the context of
Shi'ism and for laying the ground for the monumental work of Mulla Sadra.
Mir Damad did much to revive what he referred to as the Yamani wisdom
(falsafih-i Yamani), the wisdom of the prophets, in contrast to the more
rationalistic philosophy of the Greeks. 42 He has been entitled the Third
Teacher (Mu'allim-i Thdlith) after Aristotle and Farabi.
The writings of Mir Damad, both in Arabic and Persian, many of which
are incomplete, are written in a very difficult style which adds to the diffi-
culty of understanding their contents. These writings include several treatises
on Kalam; works on Fiqh like Shari' al-Najat; al-Ufuq al-MvMn on Being,
time, and eternity; al-Sirdt al-Mustaqlm on the relation between the created
and the eternal; Taqmrn al-Iman on Being, creation, and God's knowledge;
several other major treatises on Hikmat including the Qabasat,* 3 Taqdisat,
Jadhatmt, and Sidrat al~Munldka? i several Qur'anic commentaries like
Amdnat-i Ildhi; commentaries upon the Istihsar of Khwajah Nasir al-Din Tusi
and the metaphysics of the Shifd'; the Khalsat al-Malakut on gnosis; 45 and
a collection of poems in Persian and Arabic including the Mashdriq al-
Anwdr, written under the pen name, Ishrdq. After a life-time spent in writing,
teaching, and reading the Qur'an to which he was much devoted, and having
prepared the ground for the whole group of sages, especially Mulla Sadra,
who were to carry his ideas to their ultimate perfection, Mir Damad died on
the way between Najaf and Karbala in Iraq in 1041/1631.
The thought of Mir Damad is marked by two features which distinguish
him from the other Hakims of the period, the first the organization of his
treatises and the second the notion of eternal creation, huduth-i dahri, which
is the central and ever-recurring theme in his writings. As for the organization
of his works, like the Qabasdt and Taqdisat, it differs for the most part from
41 For an account of these and other students of Mir Damad, see H. Corbin,
op. cit., pp. 345-46.
43 The "Yamani philosophy" means the wisdom revealed by God to man through
the prophets and through illumination; Yaman (Yemen) symbolizes the right or
oriental (mashriqi) side of the valley in which Moses heard the message of God.
It is, therefore, the source of divine illumination in contrast to the Occident, the
source of Peripatetic philosophy, the Occident symbolizing darkness and being on
the plane of philosophy, i.e., rationalism. See H. Corbin, "Le recit d'initiation et
l'hermetisme en Iran," Eranos Jahrbuch, Vol. XVII, 1949, pp. 136-37. For the
symbols of the Orient and Occident in ishraqi wisdom see the chapter on Suhra-
wardi Maqtul.
43 This major work has been commented upon several times. One of its most
curious commentaries is that of Muhammad ibn 'Ali Rida ibn Aqajani, one of
the students of Mulla Sadra ; it runs over a thousand pages.
44 These last two works are among the important books on Hikmat in Persian,
the others being in Arabic. Some manuscripts attribute Sidrat al-Muntaha to Mir
Damad's student, Sayyid Ahmad 'Alawi, although in the Jadhawat Mir Damad
refers to this work as being his own. In any case it is a product of his school.
45 For a translation and discussion of this work, see H. Corbin, op. cit., pp. 350n\
. A History of Muslim Philosophy
that of the traditional Muslim books on philosophy and Hikmat which usually
begin with logic and then proceed to natural philosophy (tabtlyyat) , mathe-
matics (riyadiyydt), and theology (ilahiyyat).** For example, in the Qahasat
the ten chapters of the book concern the various meanings of creation and
the division of Being, kinds of anteriority, multiplicity, appeal to the Qur'an
and the Hadith, nature, time, and motion, criticism of logic, divine omnipotence,
intellectual substances, chain of Being, and finally predestination. 47
The second marked feature of Mir Damad's exposition of Hikmat concerns
the notion of time. It is well known that the question whether the world is
created (hadith) or eternal (qadlm) has been one of the major points of
dispute between the philosophers and theologians in both Islam and Chris-
tianity as well as among the Greeks." Mir Damad seeks a solution to this
question by dividing reality into three categories: zaman or time, dahr, and
sarmad; the latter two are kinds of eternity. This division is ontological and
not just logical or theoretical. 49
The divine essence or ipseity (dhat) is above all distinctions and qualities;
yet it is also the source of the divine names and attributes which are both
one with the essence and yet distinct from it. This immutable relation between
the essence and the attributes, which cannot be changed from either side, the
attributes being a necessary determination (ta'ayyun) of the essence to Itself
by Itself, Mir Damad called sarmad. It is an eternity in the absolute sense,
above all contingencies. The names and attributes, whieh are the same as
the archetypes, Platonic ideas, or the lords of the species (rabb al-nau') as
the Ishraqis call them, in turn generate the world of change. They are the
immutable intelligences of this world, and each species in this world is a
theurgy (tilism) for its archetype. The relation between the immutable arche-
types and the world of change is like the reflection of the moon in a stream
of water in which the image of the moon remains unchanged while the sub-
stance in which it is reflected, i.e., water, flows on continually. This
relation between the immutable and the changing, Mir Damad calls dahr.
Finally, the relation between one change and another is called time (zaman),
in the sense of quantity and measure of change as Aristotle had already
described it. 80
Since this world was brought into being through the intermediate world of
4S See for example the Shifa' or Najat of ibn Sina and the Kitab al-Mu l tabar
of abu al-Barakat al-Baghdadi. In some cases as in the Danish Nameh-i 'Ala'i
of ibnSma and many later ishraqi writings, the book begins with metaphysics
and then proceeds to natural philosophy in the manner of Plato rather than
Aristotle.
47 See Mir Damad, Qahasat, Shaikh MahmGd BurGjirdi, Shiraz, 1315/1897.
8 . F <>r a general discussion of this question, see L. Gardet, La penste reliqieuse
dAvzcenne J Vrin, Paris, 1951, pp. 38ff., and A. K. Coomaraswamy, Time and
Atermty, Artibus Asiae, Ascona, 1947, Chap. IV.
49 Mir Damad, Qahasat, pp. 1-10.
50 Ibid., p. 7.
916
The School of Ispahan
the archetypes, its creation is ctahri not zamdni, i.e., the world was not created
in a time which existed before the world came into being but with respect
to a dahr which stands above the world. 51 The creation of this world is, there-
fore, huduth-i dahri, ibdd', and ikklira" and not ^ttduth-i zamdni, wad', and
lakmn. Time has a reality in its own plane of being, but in the world of dahr,
the world of the archetypes, time does not even exist. Moreover, the changing
physical world ('alam-i jismani) depends for its existence upon non-existence
('adam) in the world of the archetypes. While it exists in time (zaman), it
is non-existent in dahr and has no share in the angelic mode of being, proper
to the world of dahr, of which it is no more than a coagulation. Likewise, the
world of dahr, of the archetypes, is non-existent in the divine essence, in the
world of sarmad (the eternal world). In the divine essence (dhat) there is
neither dahr nor zaman, neither archetype nor body; God is alone in His
majesty. Ba Yet, dahr exists on its own level and zaman on its own. Sarmad
is the cause of dahr and dahr the cause of zaman, 63 so that ultimately the
divine essence is the cause of all things, while in its essence nothing may
even be said to exist.
The Jadhawat, the contents of which we will now briefly survey, is one of
the works in which Mir Damad presents the complete cycle of his metaphysical
ideas combined as usual with the Qur'anic text, the Hadith, and his own verse. 64
In the first judhwah or particle of fire, of which the word jadhawat is the plural,
Mir Damad divides the "book of divine existence," of the chain of Being,
into two parts, one in which there is an effusion or theophany (tajalli) away
from the divine essence and the other in which there is a return to the origin :
51 Mir Damad argues that time itself is the measure of the movement of the
heavens and a condition for the existence of this world so that one cannot speak
of a time before the creation of the world; Qahasat, p. 20.
52 For a comparison and affinity of these ideas with those of ibn 'Arabi, see La
sagesse des prophets, Chapters I and II.
53 In presenting this view of creation, Mir Damad draws heavily on earlier
writings from Plato's Timaeus and the so-called Theology of Aristotle to the Shifa'
of ibn Sina and the Kitab al-Mu'tabar of abu al-Barakat. In each case he also
criticizes the view of the previous writers who considered the world either
to be eternal in itself or created in time from outside. Mir Damad's Risalah fi
MaMhab Aristatalis is devoted to a discussion of the difference between the views
of Plato and Aristotle on the question of time and eternity drawing on Farabi's
Kitab Jam 1 bain al-Ra'yain. Mir Damad's treatise is published on the margin of
the Qabasdt, pp. 140-57.
84 The Jadhaxvat {Bombay, lithographed edition, 1302/1884, pp. 203) begins with
a poem in praise of 'Ali ibn abi Talib the first lines of which are as follows :
O herald of the nation and the soul of the Prophet,
The ring of thy knowledge surrounds the ears of the intelligences.
O thou in whom the book of existence terminates,
To whom the account or creation refers
The glorified treasure of the revelation,
Thou art the holy interpreter of its secrets.
917
A History of Muslim Philosophy
the first extending from the divine essence to prime matter or hyle and the
other from the hyle back to the origin of all existence. Moreover, each chain
is divided into a longitudinal (fSii) order and a latitudinal f'ardi) order 55 The
longtudinal order of the chain of effusion includes five essential degrees: —
1. The degree of pure intelligences, the victorial lights (animr-i qdhirah)
the first member of which is the universal intellect f'aql-i kull) i e
the first light to issue forth from the Light of lights (nur al-anwarj
2. The degree of heavenly souls (nufiis-i falakiyyah), the governing lights
(anwar-% mudabbirah), the first member of which governing the first
heaven is called the universal soul (nafs-i kull).
3. The degree of the natural souls (nufiis-i muntabi'ah) and the archetypes
of the heavens, the planets, the four natures, the elements, and com-
pounds. 66
4. The degree of bodily form (surat-i jismlyyah), i.e., the Aristotelian
form, which is an extended substance and is of one species.
5. The degrees of hyle, from the matter of the highest heaven to that of
the world of generation and corruption. 57
As for the longitudinal order of the chain of return to the divine essence
it too includes five stages : —
1. The degree of the absolute body (jism-i mutlaq) and bodies comprising
the elements and the heavens.
2. The degree of composed bodies which come into being from the combina-
tion of the elements and have a species of their own, e.g., minerals.
3. The degree of plants possessing the vegetative soul.
4. The degree of animals possessing the animal soul. 58
5. The degree of men possessing the intellectual soul which is of the same
substance as the intelligences of the descending chain, above both of
which there is nothing but the Truth (Haqq) Itself. 59
Each of these degrees, both in the descending and the ascending chains
have their several members that constitute the latitudinal extension of each
The world of the intelligences (mujarradat) is called the world of the in-
visible (ghfl ib), or command (amr), or malakut, or intellect ('aql), or life
« Suhrawardi also divides the angelic world into the longitudinal and the
latitudinal orders, a division the influence of which upon Mir Damad is easy to
discern. On the question of angelology the Safawid sages remained faithful to the
jgrosp scheme combined with that of ibn Sina. See the chapter on Suhrawardi
" The natures refer to the warm and cold, wet and dry, and the elements to the
four traditional ones, fire, air, water, and earth.
" Mir Damad and Mulla Sadra, unlike Aristotle and his followers, posit some
form ot matter in every degree of formal manifestation.
58 Mir Damad mentions that there are 1,400 species of animals, 800 belonging to
sea and 600 to land. &
59 Jadhawdt, pp. 2-13.
The School of Ispahan
(haydt), or light (nur), while the world of bodies is called the world of creation
(Malq), vision (shahddat), or dominion (mulk), or death (maut), or darkness
(zulmat). Man's nature is composed of these two worlds in such a way that
he contains the whole, world in himself; he is the microcosm as the world is
the macrocosm. His intellect is like the sun, his soul like the moon, and his body
like the earth ; and as is the case with the heavens, man can also have an inner
eclipse, i.e., the earth of his body can prevent the light of the sun of the
intellect to shine upon the moon of the soul. The purpose of the two chains
of descent and ascent is to bring into being man, who contains both the
chains within himself and who can, therefore, ascend to heaven as well as
descend to the lowest depths of existence.
The macrocosm is a conscious being whose head is the highest heaven,
whose heart is the sun, and whose other organs correspond with those of man.
It is compared symbolically to a man whose head is pointed towards the
North Pole, the right side towards the west, the face towards heaven, the
feet towards the south, and the left side towards the east.
The totality of these degrees, the macrocosm and the microcosm together,
is the book of God, in which each being is a word or rather a letter. 80 These
words and letters are written by the divine Pen (qalam) which symbolizes
the intellect. The Pen writes the truth of things upon the human soul which
is called the ispahbad fight (nur 4 ispahbadi). More specifically, the Pen
writes the truth of things upon the soul of the prophet who in turn "writes"
the knowledge of things upon the soul of man and, through the intelligences,
upon the pages of creation and existence. The intelligences are not limited to
the nine heavens, but as the Ishraqis have asserted, in number they equal
the fixed stars in addition to the heavens and extend all the way down to the
heaven of the moon. The intelligence of this heaven is called "the giver of
forms" (wahib al-suwar) or the active intellect ('aql-i fa"dl) which gives
being as well as form to the sublunary region. 61
The heaven of the fixed stars is the meeting place of the corporeal and
intellectual lights, the boundary between formal and formless manifestation.
This heaven has its own soul and intelligence but, in addition, each star in it
is also a possessor of an intelligence and a soul proper to itself. As to the
other heavens, they also have their general intelligence and soul as well as
particular intelligences and souls all of which cast their iUuminations upon
the sublunary region. The intelligence of the heaven of the sun is Gabriel
whose grace is spread throughout the heavens and the earth.
Having considered the chain of Being, Mir Damad turns to a discussion of
unity (tauhid) starting from "there is no divinity but God" (la ilaha ilia-
Allah) to "there is no being but He and no truth but He" (la maujudun
ilia Huwa wa la haqqun ilia Huwa).* 2 For the real gnostic every being is
60 Ibid., pp. 13-18.
61 Ibid., pp. 18-28.
62 Ibid., pp. 28 ff.
L
A History of Muslim Philosophy
nothing but Being. Mir Damad compares the relation of Being to existence
with that of the number one to other numbers, which runs through all numbers
without entering into them, which relation neither the soul nor the intellect
can understand, yet its effect is felt everywhere. 83 The Divine Being by His
essential unity encompasses all things; His unity is before, with, and after
both dahr and zaman. His unity before dahr is the unity of His command; with
dahr, the unity of the universal intellect ; after dahr, the unity of the universal
soul, unity with time (zaman), and unity of the elements and compounds.
As for the generation of multiplicity from unity, Mir Damad rejects the
Peripatetic view of authors like ibn Sina who consider that the first intellect
brings multiplicity into being by the three relationships possible for it: neces-
sity by something other than itself, the intellection of the divine essence, and
the intellection of its own essence. For Mir Damad just as the number of
intelligences is unlimited so are their possible relationships beyond the number
determined by the Peripatetics. 6 * Likewise, the intelligences have a great
many illuminations and effusions beyond the categories set forth by the
Aristotelians, one intelligence being victorial (qdhir) and the other passive and
receptive (maqhur). Each heaven as well as each body, simple or composed,
has its archetype (rabb al-nau') in the world of divine command ('alam-i amr)
which is changeless and is to its species what the soul of man is to his body.
Between the world of intelligences and the physical world there is an inter-
mediary world, the so-called eighth climate which Mir Damad, following the
ancient Ishraqi sages calls hurqalya,™ the world of separated imagination
(khayal-i munfasil), or the purgatory (barzakh). Human imagination is itself
regarded as a gulf extending from this vast cosmic ocean. This world contains
the forms or Platonic ideas of all physical bodies without being in a specific
place. The mythical cities of Jabulqa and Jabulsa 68 are located in it, and
bodily resurrection on the Last Day, miracles, and the passage of great
distances in a short time, all take place in this intermediary world which is
a bridge to be crossed before reaching the spiritual world.
In order to cross this bridge and make the return journey through the
ascending chain, man must become familiar with the divine names, especially
the Great Name (ism-i a'zam) which contains all the others. All the prophets
«» In discussing tauhid, Mir Damad draws not only on ibn Sina and Suhrawardi
but even on the Nahj al-BalZghah of the first Shi'ah Imam, the Sahifih-i Sajjadlyyah
of the fourth Imam, and other Shi'ah sources. He regards ' Pythagoras as the
Imam of the Semitic sages (Hukama'-i Sami) and one who received his wisdom
through revelation. This view going back to Pbilo is held among the great majority
ot the Muslim sages and historians of philosophy.
64 Jadhawat, pp. 38ff.
« 5 This intermediary region plays an important role in the thought of Mulla
^adm and even more in the writings of Shaikh Ahmad Ahsa'i, the founder of the
bflaikhis who still survive in Kerman.
SB These are two famous mythical cities through which initiates pass in their
journeys and they appear often in initiatic narratives in Persian.
The School of Ispahan
and saints derive their being from these names, and the creatures are their
effects. The spiritual world is called the world of invocation ('alam-i tasblh)
because the realities of that world are the divine names. Man, therefore, can
regain that world only by invoking the names and becoming unified with
them. 67 The gnostic who has achieved this end sees the whole world through
the intelligible world ; in fact, he sees nothing outside the Divine. As long as
man lives in this world, no matter how much he has separated his soul from
his body and achieved catharsis (tajrid), he is still in time and space. It is
only when he dies and leaves the world of darkness for that of light that he
becomes completely free from the conditions of terrestrial existence, of zaman,
and it is only then that he enters into eternity (dahr).
The inner constitution of man forms a bridge between the worlds of time
and eternity, the sensible and the intelligible. Man possesses four degrees of
perception: sensation (ihsds), imagination (takhayyid), apprehension (tawah-
hum), and intellection (ta'aqqul), the degrees which stretch between the visible
world and the invisible world. The soul (nafs) is the link between these two
worlds; on the one hand, it abstracts perceptions from the sensible world and,
on the other, receives the illumination of the intelligible world which it clothes
in the forms of the sensible, i.e., words and names which are the external
dress of truths. 68
Mir Damad echoes earlier Sufi and Pythagorean doctrines in assigning a
particular significance to the numerical symbolism of letters. He writes: "The
world of letters corresponds to the world of numbers, and the world of numbers
to the world of Being, and the proportion of the world of letters to the
proportion of the world of numbers and the proportion of the world of num-
bers to the combinations and mixtures of the world of Being." 69 He calls
the science of the properties of letters and their combination divine medicine
and says that letters have come into being from the conjunction of planets
with the signs of the Zodiac, for example alif has come into being by Mars
crossing the first degree of Aries. He establishes correspondence between the
twenty-eight letters of the Arabic alphabet and the equal number of the
stations of the moon and works out this correspondence in great detail. 70
8 ' Jadhawat, pp. 54-63.
68 Ibid., p. 100.
64 Ibid., p. 103. In the same work, p. 92, the last part of which is wholly devoted
to the important traditional Muslim science of jafr, he considers numbers to be the
principles of beings, the illumination from the intelligible world, the "Michael of
the degree of existence" and adds that if a person acquires all the knowledge of
numbers he will gain complete knowledge of the physical world. This view is very
close to that of Pythagoras and his school. See Aristotle, Metaphysica, Book V.
In both cases number is not just the quantity of modern mathematics, but a
"personality," an entity which possesses a definite qualitative aspect. For the notion
of the Pythagoreans, see H. Keyser, Akroasis, Verlag Gert Hatje, Stuttgart, 1947.
70 For a profound study of this subject as developed before Mir Damad, see
S. T. Burckhardt, La cW spiritudles de Vastrologie mimdmane d'aprea Ibn 'Arobi,
Editions Traditionelles, Paris, 1950.
921
L
A History of Muslim Philosophy
In establishing a relation between numbers, letters of the alphabet, and
the heavens, Mir Damad, like many sages before him, seeks to point out the
common ground between the book of revelation and the book of nature, as well
as the relation between the sensible world and the intelligible world. In his
writings it is quite clear that both metaphysics and cosmology are to be found
in the esoteric (batini) meanings of the Qur'an and that through the under-
standing of the symbolism of letters and numbers and the sapiential exegeses
of sacred books one can come to know not only the Qur'an which corresponds
to the world of creation, the Qur'an-i tadmni, but also the Qur'an which is the
archetype of all manifestation, the Qur'an-i takmni, i.e., the logos or the
reality of Muhammad (haqiqat al-Muhammadlyyah).
Mir Abu al-Qasim Findiriski.— The third of the famous triumvirate of sages
from Ispahan, 71 Mir Findiriski, spent much of his life travelling outside Persia,
especially in India where he was highly respected by most of the princes and
where he made the acquaintance of many Hindu sages. He became well
acquainted with Hinduism and even wrote a commentary upon the Persian
translation of the Toga Vasistha by Nizam al-Din Panipati, which is one of
the major works on Hinduism in Persian. In the Muslim sciences he was a
master in philosophy (Hikmat), mathematics, and medicine, and taught the
Shifa" and the Qanun of ibn Sina in Ispahan where he died in 1050/1640.
The most interesting aspect of Mir Findiriski 's life is his complete detach-
ment, even externally, from the world. As a Sufi, in spite of his having ad-
vanced very far upon the Path and having reached the state of pure contem-
plation and illumination, he mingled with the common people and wore the
coarsest wool, and yet he was one of the most respected men in the Safawid
Court. 72 His manner resembled that of the Hindu Yogis with whom he had had
so much contact. He was a real man among men and one of the most striking
Sufis of his time. While completely detached from the world and even from
purely formal learning, he composed several important treatises including one
on motion (al-fiaraJcah), another on the arts and sciences in society (sand'iyyah),
the book on Yoga already mentioned, Usui al-Fusvl on Hindu wisdom, and
a history of the Safawids. Moreover, he, like Mir Damad and Shaikh-i Baha'i,
was an accomplished poet showing the development in him of the gnostic
element which is the only possible common ground between traditional philo-
71 The other two are Shaikh-i Baha'i and Mir Damad who were close friends of
Mir Findiriski and shared with him the respect and honour of the Safawid Court.
For an account of the life of Mir Findiriski whose complete name'is Mir abu al-
Qasim ibn Mirza Baik Husain Findiriski, see Raihanat al-Adab, Vol. Ill, pn
231-32. ^
72 The story is told of him in most biographies that one day Shah 'Abbas, trying
to admonish him for mixing with the common people, said, "I hear some of the
leading scholars and sages have been attending cock-fights in the bazaar." Mir
Findirski, knowing that the remark was meant for him, replied, "Your majesty,
rest assured, I was present but I saw none of the 'vlama' there." See Eiyad al-
'Arifin, p. 276.
The School of Ispahan
sophy and poetry. The most famous of his poems is a qasldah, based upon
that of Nasir ibn Khusrau Dehlawi, which is one of the best known poems
on Hikmat in Persian. It has been taught and commented upon many times
since its composition, the more famous commentaries on it being those of
Muhammad Salih Khalkhali and Hakim 'Abbas Darabi. Because of the
importance of this poem in summarizing some of the basic elements of Hikmat
as it was revived during the Safawid period, English translation of some of
the verses is given below.
"Heaven with these stars is clear, pleasing, and beautiful ;
Whatever is there above has below it a form. 73
The form below, if by the ladder of gnosis
Is trodden upward, becomes the same as its principle.
No outward apprehension can understand this saying,
Whether it be that of an abu Nasr or of an abu 'Ali Sina. 7 *
If life were not an accident under this ancient heaven,
These bodies would be forever alive and erect.
But whatever is an accident must first have a substance ;
The intellect is our loquacious witness to this claim.
If one can obtain these qualities 76 from the sun,
The sun is itself light and shines upon all things while keeping its unity.
The intellectual form which is endless and immortal
With or without all things is a totality and unity.
Of the life of the universe, I say that if thou knowest the relation of the
soul and the body,
In the heart of every particle, then life becomes both evident and hidden.
God has placed seven heavens above us,
And seven others on the other side of the world in the life to come.
Thou canst reach heaven by their means,
Be true and walk the straight path for there is no falsehood there.
He who worships the world, the door of heaven will never open to him,
The doors will not open even if he stands before them.
He who is annihilated in Him finds eternal life ;
He who is busy with himself, his affair is doubtless a failure.
The jewel is hidden in the mysteries of the ancient sages,
Only he who is wise can discover the meaning of these mysteries.
Pass beyond these words for they are forsaken by the people of the world ;
Find the Truth and tread its path, if thou art righteous.
73 The text of this qasldah and the commentary by Khalkhali have been
published in Teheran, lithographed edition, 1325/1907. This verse means the
celestial archetypes of Platonic ideas and their earthly reflections or shadows.
74 Reference is to Farabi and ibn Sina, the two early masters of mashd'i philosophy
in Islam.
75 "Qualities" means multiplicity of forms which become evident only when
light shines upon them.
923
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Whatever is outside thy essence will do thee no good,
Make thyself harmonious whether it be today or tomorrow.
The Being that is pure has no limit or description;
It is neither outside of us, nor with us, nor without us.
A beautiful thought is only beneficial when combined with virtuous deeds ;
A thought with virtuous action is competent and beautiful.
To talk of goodness is not like doing good,
The name of sweetmeat on the tongue is not like sweetmeat itself
In this world and the next, with the world and without it,
We can say all these of Him, yet He is above all that.
The intellect is a ship, passion a whirlpool, and knowledge the mast,
God is the shore and the whole cosmos the sea.
The shore is reached with certainty; the sea of the possible has become
the necessary. . . . 7 *
Howgood it would be if the sages before us had said everything completely
So that the opposition of those who are not complete" would be removed!
Desire keeps the soul in bondage in this world ;
While thou hast desire, thy feet are tied.
Each wish in this world is followed by another wish;
The wish must be sought beyond which there is no other."
Mir Findiriski occupied himself not only with metaphysics and the theoretical
sciences but also with the sciences of society, of traditional society in which the
social structure itself has a direct bearing on metaphysical principles. In his
treatise on arts and sciences (mna'tyyah)™ he distinguishes twelve voca-
tions or arts and sciences in society depending upon the subject with which
each one deals. The subjects of the arts and sciences he enumerates are as
iol ows: (i) The subject is universal and the discussion concerns knowledge as
well as action from both of which there comes only good; (ii) the subject is
universal and the discussion concerns both knowledge and action from both of
which there comes evil ; (iii) the subject is universal and the discussion concerns
knowledge from which there comes only good ; (iv) the subject is universal and
the discussion concerns knowledge from which there comes only evil- (v) the
subject is universal and the discussion concerns action from which there comes
only good; and <vi) the subject is universal and the discussion concerns action
from which there comes evil. To this list Mir Findiriski adds a series of arts
and sciences the subject of which is no longer universal. These include (vii)
thos e arts a nd sciences the subject of which is particular and the discussion
RpL T / G - *f / MUSli - n ) r^ 0VS followin g ib » Stoa d^ide reality into the Necessary
jsk sss isr being (mumun *~w and *■ ^ ^
TW <£!! argl ! ments !? egin ^ ecause each side insiders only one aspect of the Truth.
But those who are "complete," that is, have a vision of the totality of the Tmth
never enter into arguments. '
78 Mir Findiriski, Risahh-i Sana'lyyah, Sa'adat Press, Teheran, 1317 Solar.
924
The School of Ispahan
concerns knowledge and action from which there comes only good; (viii) the
subject is particular and the discussion concerns knowledge and action from
which there comes evil; (ix) the subject is particular and the discussion con-
cerns only knowledge from which there comes only good ; (x) the subject is
particular and the discussion concerns only knowledge from which there comes
evil; (xi) the subject is particular and the discussion concerns only action
from which there comes only good; and, finally (xii), the subject is particular
and the discussion concerns only action from which there comes evil. 79
The first of the twelve categories listed above concerns the prophets, saints,
and sages, the most exalted of men, who maintain the order of the universe,
there being a prophet for each cycle of history and each people. The second
concerns those who oppose the prophets and sages, those who are the deniers
of truth, and the sophists and agnostics who are the lowest of men. The fourth
class is the opposite of the first, i.e., that of the enemies of Ifikmat and theo-
logy, of those who, seeing differences in the expressions of the various sages,
have denied the one truth which lies behind this diversity. 80 The fifth category
is that of the jurists (fuqaha') who cultivate the practical sciences, and the
sixth is that of their opposites like Mazdak, 81 who concern themselves only
with their bodies and remain oblivious of the order of both this world and the
next.
The last six categories concern particular arts and sciences. The first of
them, or the seventh in our list, is that of professionals in particular arts, like
physicians, engineers, and astronomers ; and the eighth is that of their opposites,
i.e., those who misuse each of these arts. The ninth category is like the parti-
cular sense of an organ of the body and concerns people who have only a
theoretical knowledge of various arts and sciences, like music, medicine, or
the principles of jurisprudence. The tenth is its opposite and in it are included
those who make a false claim to know these sciences theoretically. The eleventh
category concerns arts and sciences which are limited to a particular subject,
and the twelfth its opposite which concerns the rejection of these same arts
and sciences.
In this classification we can already see the hierarchic structure of society
at the top of which stand the prophets and saints in whom knowledge and
action are combined, below them the hukamd' and the theologians, then those
concerned with practical arts and the particular sciences. The nobility of a
vocation in each case depends upon the nobility of the subject-matter treated.
7 » Ibid., pp. 13-54.
80 Mir Findiriski adds that all the Greek philosophers before Aristotle were
saying the same thing in different languages and that if one is instructed in the
secrets (rumuz) of Hikmat, Hindu wisdom, and the Theology of Aristotle (i.e.,
the Enneads of Plotinus), all the different expressions will have the same meaning
for him.
81 Mir Findiriski mentions Mazdak as the person who by a false interpretation
of the Avesta preached the communization of women and property. He also men-
tions the Carmathians (Qardmitah) as belonging to this group.
925
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Likewise, the degree of degradation of a person or group depends upon the
truth that has been denied; the higher the degree of a truth, the baser is he
who denies it. The categories outlined by Mir Findiriski reflect the hierarchy
within Hikmat itself. In both cases the religious sciences like theology are
considered to stand above the natural sciences, Hikmat above theology, and
the wisdom of the prophets and saints above all the other categories.
Mulla Muhsin Faid-i #«.— Muhammad ibn Shah Murtada ibn Shah Mah-
mud, better known as Mulla Muhsin or Faid-i Kashi, is the most famous of
the sages of the generation following that of Mir Damad, Shaikh-i Baha'i
and Mir Findiriski. Born in Kashan in 1007/1600, he spent some years at
Qum and then came to Shiraz to complete his studies with Mulla Sadra
whose daughter he later married. He also studied with Mir Damad* and
Shaikh-i Baha'i but was more closely associated with Mulla Sadra. Just as
Mir Damad produced a series of outstanding students, the best known of
whom was Mulla Sadra— the greatest of the Safawid Hakims to whom we
shall turn in a separate chapter— Mulla Sadra in turn produced a galaxy of
famous students among whom Faid-i Kashi and Mulla 'Abd al-Razzaq Lahiji,
both his sons-in-law, are the most important. 82
The genius of Mulla Sadra consisted largely in unifying the three perspec-
tives of formal revelation or shar', purification of the soul leading to illumina-
tion (kashf), and rational demonstration (falsafah) into a single universal
vision in which all these paths lead to the same truth. All of his followers
sought to preserve the unity established by their master, each emphasizing
some one aspect of it. For example, later sages like Qadi Sa'Id Qumi, Mulla 'Ali
Nuri, and Aqa 'Ali Zunuzi sought to correlate revelation and reason, and
Aqa Muhammad Bidabadi and Aqa Muhammad Rida' Qumshihi, reason and
gnosis. Others continued the path trodden by Mulla Sadra himself and
emphasized the harmony of all the three paths mentioned above. Mulla Muhsin
Faid and Haji Mulla Hadi Sabziwari, the most famous Persian thinker of
the last century, belong to this last group. Mulla Muhsin's writings display
a harmonious integration of reason, revelation, and gnosis with lesser emphasis
upon reason. He succeeded perhaps more than anyone else in the Shl'ah world
to bring about a complete harmony between Law and spiritual life, SharVak
and Tartqah.
In many ways Mulla Muhsin may be considered to be a Shl'ah Ghazali, not
only because of his preoccupation with harmonizing the exoteric and the
esoteric views, but also for his treatment of a spiritualized ethics which forms
■* Mulla-i Lahiji, known as Fayyad, author of several important treatises on
Htkmat in Persian and Arabic mentioned already, deserves a separate study as
one of the major figures of this period. There are brief accounts of him in E G
Browne, op .cjt. Vol. IV, pp. 408-09, 435. See also the introduction by Sayyid
Muhammad Mishkat to the new edition of al-Mahajjat al-Baida\ Vol. I, Islamivvah
Press, Teheran, 1380 Solar, in which the significance of Faid's doctrines and in
particular the present work on ethics is discussed.
926
The School of Ispahan
the requirement for following the Path. He even re-wrote the well-known
Ihya' 'Ulum al-Din of Ghazali under the name of al-Mahajjat al-Baida" fi
Ihya' al-Ihya", substituting traditions (Hadith) from the Shi'ah sources for
those from the Sunni ones given by Ghazali. 83
The writings of Mulla Muhsin both in Arabic and Persian are too numerous
to mention here. 84 Among the more famous, one may name Haqq al-Yaqln;
'Ain al-Yaqln, and 'Ilm al-Yaqln on Hikmat; al-Safi, al-Wafi, and al- Shaft
on Qur'anic commentary and Hadith; Mafdtih al-Sharayi' on jurisprudence;
al-Tathir on ethics; Jala' al-'Uyun, Zad al-Sdlik, and Kalimat-i Maknunah
on Sufism ; numerous treatises on the esoteric meaning of acts of worship, on
various invocations, on particular sciences including astronomy ; selections from
and commentaries on the Rasa'il of the Ikhwan al-Safa, the Futukdt al-
Makklyyah of ibn 'Arabi, and the Mathnawi of Jalal al-Din Rumi; and a large
collection of poems consisting mostly of verses of Sufi inspiration. His works
both in poetry and prose have remained very popular in Persia and his ethical
and social teachings have attracted particular attention in the past decades.
Mulla Muhsin's thought marks the final integration of Hikmat into ShTism.
Hikmat in Persia had been moving in this direction for many centuries from
the time of al-Farabi and ibn Sina. Suhrawardi Maqtul took the decisive step
in regarding knowledge as personal illumination by the heavenly guide or
"guardian angel." Mulla Sadra following him made the universal intellect the
criterion of knowledge. Mulla Muhsin took a further step in this direction in
identifying this intellect with the Shi'ah Imams, in whom the light of Muham-
mad (al-nur al-Muhammadlyyah) is manifested and who are called the innocent
(ma' sum) intellects. 85 Only by union with them, with the pure intellects, can
one gain ultimate knowledge.
One of the important treatises of Mulla Muhsin, in which gnosis, Hikmat,
and Shar 1 are blended in characteristic fashion, is the Kalimat-i Maknunah
written in a mixture of Arabic and Persian. 86 It treats of a complete cycle
of theoretical gnosis so that its discussion gives a fair example of the totality
of Mulla Muhsin's general perspective.
The work begins by assuring the reader that there is no way of reaching
the essence of the Truth because the Truth encompasses all things. Every-
thing is Its manifestation, but only the elite (khaivdss) know what they see.
Being is like light, but since its opposite does not exist in this world as in
the case of light which stands opposed to darkness, one cannot come to know
83 See Mulla Muhsin Faid-i Kashi, al-Mahajjat al-Baida' fi Ihya' al-Ihya', 4 Vols.,
Islamiyyah Press, Teheran, 1380-81 Solar, in which in ten sections he deals with
Sufi ethics based on Shi'ah sources but following closely the model of the Ihya\
84 The Baihanat al-Adab, Vol. Ill, pp. 242-44, mentions 120 works by him.
For the account of Mulla Muhsin's life and writings, consult also Qisas al-'Ulama\
pp. 322-33, and Riyad al-'Arifin, pp. 388-89.
85 Mulla Muhsin Faid, A'lnih-i £hahi, Musawi Press, ghiraz, 1320/1902, p. 5.
86 Kalimat-i Maknunah, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1316/1898. Henceforth
our reference to this work will be to this edition.
927
A History of Muslim Philosophy
it so easily. God is hidden because of the excess of His light; no veil can
cover Him because every veil is a limitation and God is above all 'limitations «
Being tg the Truth which subsists by Itself, while everything else subsists by
It. Being is not just a mental concept, the meaning of Being in the mind
consisting only of a reflection of Being Itself.
The divine attributes and names are identical with the divine essence
while in themselves they are distinct. Likewise the forms of all beings in the
divine intellect, i.e., the quiddities or essences, the mahiyat or a'yan al-tkabi-
tah«* are in one respect identical with and in another distinct from essence
Each being subsists by one of the divine names and its very existence consists
in the invocation of that name. The archetypes, a'yan al-thdbitah, have two
aspects; on the one hand, they are the mirrors in which Truth is reflected in
which case they are hidden and Truth is manifest; and, on the other hand
Truth is the mirror in which they are reflected, in which case truth is hidden
and they are manifest. These two aspects correspond also to two states of
contemplation: one of Truth (Haqq) and the other of creation (khalq)
Ihe perfect gnostic contemplates both mirrors; he sees the cosmos as a mirror
m which Truth is reflected, and his own essence as a mirror in which both
the cosmos and Truth are reflected. Mulla Muhsin advises the sage to take a
further step m eliminating himself also so that there remains nothing but
Truth. 89
Mulla Muhsin follows certain earlier Sufis in considering the world to be
re-created at every instant, 9 " so that its continuity is only apparent The real
continuity is "vertical," i.e., between Truth and its manifestations, not
'horizontal" and "substantial," i.e., between parts and instances of the
created world. The world is like a flowing stream which, although apparently
a continuous and subsisted body, changes at every instant, each particle
of it perishing at every instant and a new particle coming to take its place
The creation of the world or the effusion of unity into multiplicity does
not take place immediately but through the divine names, each creature
being the theophany (tajalli) of a particular name. The name Allah is the
supreme master (rabb al-arbab) of all the names, the theophany of which is
the universa l man (al-insan al-lcdmil). Although the stages in which creation
87 Ibid., p. 15.
I 8 For an explanation of these terms see Seyyed Hossein Nasr, "Being and Its
Po ansation, Pakwtan Philosophical Journal, Vol. Ill, No. 2, October 1959, pp
8-13. In the general discussion among the Hakims as to whether these essences
(or Being) are pmicipial, Mulla Muhsin sides with the school of isalat-i wujud the
prmcipiahty of Being, and considers the mahiyat to be the accidents of Being
m ^ ue T stK>n has been dealt with in the chapter on Suhrawardi MaqtuI
KalimM-iMaknunah, pp. 3 Iff. Mulla Muhsin describes these stages also as
the tlm al-y^n, in which one "sees" nothing but the divine essence, names, and
Jh^W ° T <d .- y ^ tn '- «**«& one "sees" nothing but the essence and names; and
the haqq al-yaqm m which there remains only the divine ipseity
See T. Burckhardt, Introduction to Sufi Doctrine, pp. 64ff.
The School of Ispahan
comes into being are numerous, Mullah Muhsin names five degrees which mark
the main steps. In the first degree is the divine essence which is above all
distinctions and determinations; in the second are the names which are the
manifestations of Truth in the world of divinity, vluhiyyah; in the third are
the divine acts and world of spirits which are the manifestations of Truth
in the world of Lordship, rubublyyah; in the fourth is the world of the "ideas"
and imagination (khayal) n which is the manifestation of Truth in the world
of varying forms; and in the fifth is the world of the senses which is the
manifestation of Truth in determined forms. 92 Everything in the physical
world has its archetype in the world of imagination, while everything in the
world of imagination has its archetype in the world of lordship, and everything
in the world of lordship is a form of one of the divine names, each name an
aspect of the divine essence.
Man alone among creatures is able to cast aside these veils and reach the
divine origin of things. He has a particular soul brought into being with
his body, which soul is independent of matter, and also a universal soul which
exists before the body and is manifested only in the spiritual Site. Moreoever,
man has a vegetative soul consisting of the faculties of attraction, repulsion,
digestion, growth, and retention originating in the liver; an animal soul con-
sisting of the faculties of the five senses originating in the heart; a sacred
rational soul (nafs-i naiiqah-i gudsiyyah) with the faculties of meditation
(fikr) and invocation (dhikr) ; and the universal divine soul (nafs-i kultiyyah-i
ilahlyyah), not possessed by all men, with the faculty of reaching the station
of annihilation (farm') in the Divine. 93
The goal of each man should be to awaken the potential faculties within
him until all the accidential obstacles are removed and he becomes identified
with the universal man, the theophany of the supreme name. Then he will
be able to contemplate Absolute Being and thereby fulfil the purpose of all
creation and sustain the whole universe.
The universal man is either a prophet or a saint. Absolute prophethood
(nubuvwat-i mutlaq) is the supreme station, the perfect "form" of unity, the
first pen, and the Pole of Poles, qutb al-aqtab, upon which all the prophets and
saints depend. The inner (bdtin) dimension of this prophecy is absolute saint-
hood (wilayat-i mutlaq). Mulla Muhsin identifies absolute prophethood with
the light of Muhammad, and absolute sainthood with the light of 'Ali. The
prophethood of all prophets depends upon absolute prophecy as the sainthood
of all saints depends upon absolute sainthood. Prophethood began with Adam
and found its completion in the Prophet Mubammad. Sainthood will reach
its completion gradually until it culminates in the twelfth Imam, the Mahdi.
91 This term should not be taken in its negative connotation; it has a positive
moaning in Sufi cosmology and marks an intermediate stage between the sensible
world and the spiritual world. See H. Corbin, Imagination creatrice . . ., Chap. II.
92 Kalimat-i Malcnunah, p. 61.
93 Ibid., pp. 74-75.
929
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Absolute prophethood is the treasure of all possible perfections and the whole
cosmos is the expansion and manifestation of its inner qualities. 94
Gnosis and illumination are themselves the fruit of the tree of prophethood.
Mulla Muhsin insists that the source of Hikmat was originally the sacred
spirit of the prophets; this wisdom, however, was misunderstood and mis-
interpreted by men of the later period, i.e., the Peripatetics and other later
schools of Greek philosophy, and was revived only in the light of the revelation
of the Prophet of Islam and his family. He who wishes to be initiated into it
must, therefore, seek the aid of the prophets and saints and this can be
achieved only by invocation and meditation and the purification of the heart.
Only he who has trodden this path and become a true Hakim can be considered
the real heir to the saints and the prophets. 95
Mulla Muhammad Baqir Majlisi. — One cannot terminate a study of the
intellectual life of the Safawid period without mentioning the two Majlisis,
father and son, especially the son Muhammad Baqir who stands as one of
the outstanding figures of the period. The first Majlisi, Muhammad Taqi
(1003/1594-1070/1659), was one of the students of Shaikh-i Baha'i and an
outstanding theologian and Sufi of his time. 96 His son, the second Majlisi
(1037/1628-1110/1699), however, surpassed his father in fame and power and
became the most dominant figure of Shi'ism. Having studied with his own
father, Mulla Khalil Qazwlni, and Mulla Muhsin Faid, he in turn became the
master of over a thousand disciples including Sayyid Ni'matullah Jaza'iri,
well known for his many writings, especially the account of his own life
as a student.
The second Majlisi is especially famous for revivifying the various branches
of the Shi'ah sciences and for assembling the writings of the earlier doctors
of Shi'ism and prophetic hadlth into encyclopedias which have henceforth
become the main reference for all who undertake religious education in the
Shi'ah madrasahs. The most important and famous of these is the Bihar al-
Anwar summarized in the Saflnat al- Bihar of Shaikh 'Abbas Qumi, the litho-
graphed edition of which occupies twenty- four volumes; Haqq al-Yaqln in
Usui; Hayat al-Qulub, a commentary upon the Tadhhib al-Ahkam of Khwajah
Nasir al-Din Tusi; and the Mir'dt al-'Uqul, a twelve- volume commentary
upon the Usui al-Kafi of Kulaini in which Majlisi for the only time in his
writing career enters into purely intellectual ('aqli) questions and treats of
many essential religious subjects, especially eschatology and the conditions
before the appearance of the Mahdi, from an intellectual rather than a purely
"confessional" point of view. 97
M Ibid., pp. 167ff.
95 Ibid., pp. 214-19.
ae Raihanat al-Adab, Vol. Ill, pp. 460-62. The Mir' at al-Ahwal-i JaMn Numa' by
Ahmad ibn Muhammad Baqir Ispahan! Bihbahani is devoted to his life and works.
97 For the writings and life of the second Majlisi, see Raihanat al-Adab, Vol. Ill,
pp. 455-60; Danish Pazhuh, Fihrist . . ., Vol. V., p. 1137! The Faid-i Qudsi by
930
The School of Ispahan
Of special interest in the religious life of Persia is Majlisi's opposition to
Sufism and even the denial that his own father, the first Majlisi, was a Sufi. 98
Furthermore, supported by the Court and many of the theologians and doctors,
he opposed the intellectual method of the Hakims and philosophers with the
result that both the Sufis and the Hakims fell into disgrace and had much
difficulty in official religious circles. The dynasty which had begun as the
extension of a Sufi order ended by opposing all Sufism and gnosis itself. It
was not long after the death of the second Majlisi in fact that the Safawid
dynasty itself fell before the onslaught of the Afghans, and Ispahan, the
historic as well as the symbolic centre of this period of great intellectual
activity, was sacked and its libraries burnt.
D
CONCLUSION
This form of wisdom or Hikmat, some features of which we have sought to
outline here, did not die with the termination of the Safawid dynasty. In
the thirteenth/eighteenth century Sufism was revived in Persia by Ma'siim
'Ali Shah and Shah Tahir Dakani, two Ni'matullahi masters sent by Rida'
'Ali S_hah from Deccan to Persia. It was persecuted for a period but began
to expand with the establishment of the Qajars. Likewise, the school of
Hikmat continued through the students of Mulla Sadra and others from one
generation to another until it produced Shaikh Ahmad Ahsa'i, the founder
of the Shaikhi movement, 99 Haji Mulla Hadi Sabizwari, and several other
outstanding figures in the Qajar period, the light of whose teachings has not
yet disappeared from the horizon of Persia. One can hardly understand the
intellectual life of Islam in its totality without taking into account this last
major period of Muslim intellectual activity, lasting from the Safawid period
to the present, to the understanding of which we hope this chapter will serve
as an introduction and as an incentive for further exploration.
Mirza Husain Nuri is devoted completely to his life and writings. Majlisi wrote
thirteen Arabic and fifty-five Persian books which altogether occupy nearly a
million and a half lines.
B8 He devoted a treatise, the I'tiqadat, to rejecting Sufism.
** Shaikh Ahmad is responsible for the last important religious movement within
Shi'ism and should be studied separately as a founder of a particular sect. The
leaders of this sect called the Shaikhis claim to have knowledge of all things, and
so each of them from the time of Shaikh Ahmad to the present has composed
a large number of treatises on all the sciences. For a list of the works of SJiaikh
Ahmad and the other leaders of the Shaikhis, see abu al-Qasim ibn Zain al-' Abidin
ibn Karim, Fihrist-i Kutub-i Marhum-i Ahsa'i wa Sa'ir-i Mashayikh-i l Izam,
2 Vols., Sa'adat Press, Kerman, 1337 Solar. '
931
A History of Muslim Philosophy
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Abu al-Qasim ibn Zain al-'Abidin ibn Karim, Fihrist-i Kutub-i Marhum-i
Ahsa\ wa Sa'ir-i Mashayikh-i 'Izam, Sa'adat Press, Kerman, 1337 Solar ; Agha
Buzurgal-TihrSni.o/^DAaj-ra^al-Qharra Press, Najaf, 1355/1936 on; Baha'al-DIn
•Amili, KuUiyat-i A&h'ar-i Farsi, ed. M. Tauhipur, Mahmiidi Press, Teheran, 1336
Solar; E. G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia, Cambridge University Press
Cambridge, 1924, Vol. IV; H. Corbin, "Confessions extatiques de Mir Damad,"
Melanges Louis Massignon, Institut Francais de Damas, Damas, 1956; M B
Danish Pazhuh, Fihrist-i Kitab Khanih-i IhddH-i Aqa-yi Sayyid Muhammad-i
MiskkM, University Press, Teheran, 1332-35 Solar; C. Gobineau, Religions et
philosophies dans VAsie Centrale, Gallimard, Paris, 1933; R. Q. Hidayat, Riyad
al-'Arifin, Aftab Press, Teheran, 1316 Solar; Iskandar Baig Munshi, Tarihh'-i
'Alam Ara-yi 'Abbasi, Musawi Press, Teheran, 1334 Solar; Muhammad Baqir
Jthunsari, Raudat al-Jannat, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1306/1888; M. B.
Mir Damad, Jadhawat, Bombay, lithographed edition, 1304/1886; Qabasat, Shaikh
Mahmud BurQjirdi, Shiraz, 1315/1897; A.Mir Findiriski, Risaleh-i Sana'iyyah, ed.
by A. A. Shihabi, Sa'adat Press, Teheran, 1317 Solar; Mulla Muhsin Faid-i Kashi,
Kalimat-i Malcnunah, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1316/1898; al-Mahajjat al-
Baida' fi Ihya' al-Ihya\ 4 Vols., Islamlyyah Press, Teheran, 1380-81 Solar; Nurullah
Shushtari, Majalis al-Mu'minin, Islamlyyah Press, Teheran, 1375/1955; Shihab
al-Din Suhrawardi, Opera Metaphysica et Mystica, Vol. I, Ma'Srif Mathaasi
{Bibliotheea Islamica, 16), Istanbul, 1945, and Oeuvres philosophiques et mystiques,
Vol. II, Institut Franco-Iranien, Andrien Maisonneuve, Paris, 1952; H. Corbin]
"Prolegomenes"; Muhammad 'Ali Tabrizi, Raihanat al-Adab, Sa'di Press, Teheran,'
1331-33 Solar; T. Tunikabuni, Qisas al-'Ulama\ 'Ilmiyyah Press, Teheran, 1313
Solar.
Chapter XLVIII
SADR AL-DlN SHLRAZI (MULLA SADRA)'
LIFE AND WORKS
The intellectual activity revived in Persia during the Safawid period, some
features of which we have discussed in the previou schapter, "The School of
Ispahan," found its culmination in Sadr al-Din Shlrazi known to his com-
patriots as Akhund Mulla Sadra and to his disciples as simply Akhund
or as Sadr al-MutVallihin, i.e., the foremost among the theosophers. This
figure, about whom the whole intellectual life of Persia has revolved in the
past three centuries and a half and who is one of the major expositors of
Islamic intellectual doctrines in the Shi'ah world, has remained until today
1 This chapter has been written with the invaluable help of Hajj Muhammad
Husain Tabataba'i, one of the leading authorities on the school of Mulla Sadra in
Iran today, the author of the twenty -volume Qur'anic commentary al-Mizan and
the editor and commentator of the new edition of the Asfar.
Sadr al-Din Shlrazi (Mulla Sadra)
almost completely unknown outside Persia, even in other Muslim countries.
Many have heard of his name, and nearly all travellers to Persia since the
Safawid period, who have been interested in the intellectual life of the country,
have recognized his importance and have been impressed by his fame, 2 yet
no one outside a group of his disciples in Persia, who have kept his school
alive until today, has done justice to his doctrines in presenting them to the
world at large.
Mulla Sadra, whose complete name is Sadr al-Din Muhammad, was born in
Shiraz in about 979/1571, 3 the only son of Ibrahim Shlrazi. A member of
the famous Qawam family of Shiraz, Ibrahim held the post of a vizier and
was a powerful political and social figure in his native city. The young Sadr
al-Din exhibited his exceptional intelligence from childhood and was given
the best possible education in ShJraz.
Having completed his early studies, he became intensely interested in the
intellectual sciences (al-'ulum al-'aqliyyah), especially metaphysics, and,
2 Comte de Gobineau, one of the most observant of travellers who have visited
Persia during the past few centuries, was quite aware of Mulla Sadra's significance
although not quite well acquainted with his ideas, for in a well-known passage he
writes : "Le vrai, l'ineontestable merite de Moulla Sadra reste celui pue j'ai indique
plus haut : c'est d'avoir ramine, rejeuni, pour le temps oil il vivait, la philosophie
antique, en lui conservant les moins possible de ses formes avicenniques . . . ."
Gobineau, Les religions et les philosophies dans VAsie centrale, les Editions G. Gres
et Cie, Paris, 1923, p. 102.
3 The date of Mulla Sadra's birth was unknown until quite recently when in
preparing the new edition of the Asfar, Tabataba'i collected a large number of
handwritten manuscripts of the work. On the margin of one of the manuscripts
dated 1197/1782 with marginal notes by Mulla Sadra himself, the authenticity
of which cannot be doubted, there appears this statement: "This truth was revealed
to me on Friday, the 7th of Jamadi al-Ula 1037 A. H. when 58 years had passed
from (my life) . . . ." Therefore, the date of his birth can be established as 979/1571
or 980/1572.
For the traditional accounts of the life of Mulla Sadra and his works, see M. B.
Khunsari, Raudat al-Jannat, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1306/1888, Vol. II,
pp. 331-32; M.' A. Tabrizi, Raihanat al-Adab, Sa'di Press, Teheran, 1331/1912,
Vol. II, pp. 458-61; Mir Khwand, Raudat al-Safa, Teheran, lithographed edition,
1270/1853, Vol. VIII, p. 120; T. Tunikabuni, Qisas al-'Ulama', 'Ilmi Press, Teheran,
1313/1895, pp. 329-33, and Agha Buzurg Tihrani, al-I&nri'ah, al-Gharra Press,
Najaf, 1355/1936, on dealing with various writings of Akhund.
As for secondary sources, see M. Mudarrisi Ch ahardihi. Tarikh-i FaMsifth-i Islam,
'Ilmi Press, Teheran, 1336 Solar, Vol. I, pp. 179ff.; A. A. Zinjani, al-FUsuf al-
Farsi al-Kablr Sadr al-Din al-Shirazi, al-Mufid Press, Damascus, pp. 212-18, No. 3,
1951, pp. 318-27; J. 'AH Yasin, Sadr al-Din al-Skirdzi Mujaddid al-Falsifat al-
Islamlyyah, al-Ma'arif Press, 1375/1956, and the introduction by M. R. Muzaffar,
in the new edition of the Asfar, Da'ir al-Ma'arif al-Islamiyyah, Qum, 1378/1958.
For an account of the life and doctrines of Mulla Sadra in European languages,
see Gobineau, op. cit., pp. 91-103; E. G.Browne, A Literary History of Persia, Uni-
versity Press, Cambridge, 1924, Vol. TV, pp. 429-30; and M. Horten, Die Philo-
sophie des Islam, Verlag Ernst Rheinhardt, Miinchen, 1924, pp. 57ff. Also Browne,
A Year Amongst the Persians, Adam & Charles Black, London, 1950, pp. 141-43.
933
A History of Muslim Philosophy
therefore, left Shlraz for Ispahan which was at that time the capital and
major seat of learning in Persia. In Ispahan he studied first with Baha' al-Din
'Amili, learning the transmitted sciences (al-'ulum al-naqllyyah ) from him
and later with Mir Damad who was his most famous master in the intellectual
sciences.'" Within a few years he became himself a recognized master in all
the branches of formal learning especially in Hiknutt* in which he soon sur-
passed his own teachers.
Not satisfied simply with formal learning, Mulla Sadra left worldly life
in general and retired to a small village named Kahak near Qum where he
spent fifteen years in asceticism and purification of his soul until, as he claims
in his introduction to the Asfar, he became endowed with the direct vision of
the intelligible world. He now came to "see" through illumination (ishraq)
what he had previously learnt theoretically from books.
Having reached both formal and spiritual perfection, Mulla Sadra returned
once again to the world. Meanwhile AUahwirdi Khan, the Governor
of Shlraz, had built a large madrasah and invited Mulla Sadra to return to
Shiraz as the head of the new school. Akhund accepted the offer and returned
to his native city, making the school of Khan the major centre of intel-
lectual sciences in Persia.* He remained there until the end of his life spending
the last period of his terrestrial existence entirely in teaching and writing.
Despite his extreme piety which is shown by the fact that he made the
pilgrimage to Mecca seven times on foot— he died in Basrah in 1050/1640
during the seventh journey— Mulla Sadra was often molested by some
of the exoteric 'uUma' who could not accept his gnostic interpretation of the
doctrines of the faith and who denounced him publicly on more than one
occasion. It was only the influence of his powerful family that made it possible
for him to continue his teaching activities.
Concerning Baha al-Din 'Amili and MTr Damad, see the preceding chapter
To know the names of the masters of a Hakim is important because learning
Hikmat from within is impossible without a master for the majority of even
those who are gifted to pursue it. One can learn certain ideas from books alone
but really to understand what Hikmat means and what the various authorities
meant by various expressions there is need of a master who himself learnt the
doctrines from another master and so on going back to the early masters. The
Hakim is, therefore, as insistent upon the authenticity of his chain of masters as
a verifier of hadilh m about the isndd of a tradition or a Sufi master about the
siteilafi or cham of his tarlqah.
5 We have already discussed in detail in previous chapters the meaning of this
term as used here, i.e., a combination of gnosis, illuminationist and Peripatetic
philosophy which is neither theology nor philosophy as currently understood but
theosophy in the proper and original sense of the term and not in its present usurpa-
tion by various pseudo-spiritualist groups.
"• T aI X?» SCh ° 01 Which is ° ne of the most beautiful edifices of the Safawid
period had fallen into ruins for some years when about ten years ago the Bureau
of Archaeology of the Persian Government undertook the task of repairing it. It is
now operating once again as a madrasah for traditional learning.
934
Sadr al-Din Shirazi {Mulla Sadra)
Mulla Sadra's life, then, can be divided into three distinct periods: the
period of childhood and schooling in Shiraz and Ispahan, the period of ascetic-
ism near Qum at the end of which the composition of the Asfar was begun,
and the period of teaching and writing which represents the result and fruition
of the other two periods. His life is itself the testimony of one of the main
aspects of his wisdom, that in order to be effective theoretical knowledge
must be combined with spiritual realization.
The writings of Mulla Sadra, nearly all of which were composed in the last
period of his life, are almost without exception of great merit and have been
among the main sources from which the later generations of theologians,
philosophers, and gnostics have drawn their inspiration. All his writings
concern either religious sciences or metaphysics, theodicy or Hikmat, 1 and are
in a very clear and fluent style making them more easily understandable to
the reader than the writings of his predecessors like Mir Damad. 8 Since Mulla
Sadra's writings are nearly completely unknown outside Persia, we take this
opportunity to list the works which, according to the leading living authori-
ties and the best historical evidence, were written by him. 9 The works dealing
with metaphysics and intellectual sciences include: al- Asfar al-Arba'ah;
al-Mabda' w-al-Ma'ad; Sirr al-Nuqtah (possibly not authentic); al-Shawdhid
al-Rubvbiyyah, his most lucid and masterly work; al-Hikmat al-'Arshiyyah,
glosses upon the Hikmat al- Ishraq of Suhrawardi Maqtul ; commentary (shark)
upon the Hidayah of Athiri; 10 glosses upon the metaphysical parts of ibn
Sina's Shifa"; Fi Ittihad al-'Aqil w-al-Ma'qul; Fi Ittimf al-Mahiyyah w-al-
Wuj-ud; Fi Bad' Wujud al-Insan; Fi al-Tasaiowur w-al-Tasdiq; Fi al-Jabr
w-al-Tafmd; Fi Hvduth al-'Alam\ Fi Hashr; Fi Sarayan al-Wujud; Fi al-
Qada' w-al-Qadar; Fi Tashakhkhus; al-Masa'il al-Qudsiyyah ; Ikslr al-'Arifln;
al-Waridat al-Qalblyyah; al-Qaiva'id al-Malakutiyyah; Hall al-Mushkildt
7 He in fact criticizes ibn Sina for having spent his time composing works on
other sciences like mathematics and medicine.
8 The story is told in most of the traditional sources mentioned above that
Mulla Sadra once asked Mir Damad why he was respected by all the religious
authorities while Akhund, despite his powerful family, was molested so much by
some of the 'ulamd\ Mir Damad answered that although they were both saying
the same thing, he hid his ideas within so many difficult expressions that only
the Hite would be able to understand them while Mulla Sadra wrote so clearly
that anyone with a knowledge of Arabic could detect the trend of his ideas.
» See also Raihanat al-Adab, pp. 458-61, where fifty works by him are mentioned,
and A. A. Zanjani, op. cit., pp. 19-22 where he mentions twenty-six metaphysical and
philosophical and seventeen religious works some of which are of doubtful
authenticity. Refer also to J. 'Ali Yasin, op. cit., pp. 58-62, where twenty-six
works are named.
10 The Kitab al-Hidayah dealing with a complete cycle of Hikmat, i.e., logic,
natural philosophy, and metaphysics, was composed by the seventh/thirteenth -
century Persian author, Athir al-Din Mufaddal ibn 'Umar al-Abhari; it soon
became one of the basic books of instruction in the madrasahs. The tenth/sixteenth -
century commentary upon it by Kamal al-Din Mibudi was the best known before
Mulla Sadra composed his own commentary upon it.
935
A History of Muslim Philosophy
al-FaUMyyah; introduction to 'Arsh al-Taqdis of Mir Damad; al-Mazdhir-
glosses upon Raivdshih al-Samdwlyyah of Mir Damad, Khalq al-A'mal; ' Kasr
al-Asrmm al-JdhUlyyah ; al-Mizaj; ai-Ma'dd al-Jismdni ; Tanqlyah in logic;
diwan of poems in Persian; and answers to various questions on philosophy.
The works that are primarily concerned with the religious sciences include
the Qur'anic commentary: Mafdtlh al-Ghaib, Asrdr al-Aydt; commentary
upon a large number of the verses of the Qur'an; commentary upon a few
prophetic ahddlth fi Imdrrmh; glosses upon the Qur'anic commentary of
Baidawi; glosses upon the Tajrld of Khwajah Nasir al-Din al-Tusi, and upon
Qushji's commentary upon the Tajrid (of doubtful authenticity); glosses upon
the commentary upon the Lum'ah, commentary upon the Usui al-Kafi of
Kulaini, one of the four major sources of Shi'ah Law;" MutashSbih al-Qur'dn;
and a Persian treatise called Sih Ad on the soul and its destiny. 12
Mulla Sadra composed also several quatrains in Persian, a few of which
are mentioned in the traditional sources and some appear in his own hand-
writing on the first page of his commentary upon the Hiddyah. 13 They deal
mostly with the Sufi doctrine of the unity of Being (wahdat al-wujud), which
may be considered to be the central theme of Mulla Sadra's doctrinal formula-
tions. For example, in one of the quatrains he says:
The Truth is the spirit of the universe and the universe the body,
And the orders of the angels are the senses of this body ;
The heavens, elements, and compounds are its organs;
Lo ! unity is this, and the rest nothing but rhetoric.
In dividing the writings of Mulla Sadra into the intellectual and the reli-
gious ones, we do not in any way wish to imply that these two categories
are completely separated in his view. On the contrary, one of the major
achievements of Mulla Sadra consisted in uniting and harmonizing religion
and the intellectual sciences. All of his works, even in philosophy, are replete
with the Qur'anic verses in support of his conclusions; and all of his religious
works, even the Qur'anic commentaries, are full of gnostic and intellectual
interpretations. One can only say that some of Akhund's writings are con-
cerned more with religious questions and others more with intellectual ones.
Likewise, among the above-mentioned works some are more gnostic in
character and others are presented in a more discursive language, although
"The Usui al-Kafi was also commented upon by Majlisi as we have mentioned
m the previous chapter. The commentary of Mulla Sadra which is of a more
intellectual nature is one of the most important Shi'ah works written in the Safawid
period and is perhaps his most significant religious composition.
,wc S un P ubUshed trea * ise the manuscript of which exists in the Majlis Library
(Mb. 103) in Teheran is the only known prose work of Mulla Sadra in Persian, all
the other above-mentioned writings being in Arabic.
\ 3 The manuscript of the Sharh al-Hiddyah in theMishkat Collection at Teheran
University, MS. 254, is in Mulla Sadra's own handwriting; several quatrains appear
m the opening pages which are without doubt his own.
936
Sadr al-Din SJiIrazi (Mulla Sadra)
they all bear the fragrance of gnostic doctrines. Among writings which are
of a more gnostic vein one may mention al-Shciwahid ai-Rububiyyah, al-
'Arshlyyah, Asrdr al-Ayat, and al- Wdriddt al-Qalblyyah, and among those
wliich are presented in a more discursive language are the Sharh al-Hiddyah
and the commentary upon the Shifd'.
Without doubt the most important work of Mulla Sadra is the Asfdr al-
Arba'ah. It is comparable in dimension and scope to the Shifd' and the Futuhdt
al-Makklyyah and in a way stands midway between the Peripatetic encyclo-
pedia of ibn Sina and the compendium of esoteric sciences of ibn 'Arabi.
The title of Asfdr itself has been the cause of much difficulty to the few
Orientalists who are acquainted with the book. The word asfdr is the broken
plural for safar meaning journey as well as sifr meaning "book" from the
Hebrew sefer. So it was that Gobineau considered the work to be a series of
books on travel and E. G. Browne believed that the title meant simply "the
four books." 14
Both views are, however, erroneous. Actually, asfdr means journeys but
not the account of travels in the ordinary sense of the word as Gobineau
understood it to be. As Mulla Sadra himself mentions in his introduction to
the book, the Asfdr consists of the following four stages or journeys of initiatic
realization (suluk) : (i) the journey of the creature or creation (khalq) towards
the Creator or the Truth (Haqq), (ii) the journey in the Truth with the Truth,
(iii) the journey from the Truth to creation with the Truth, and (iv) the journey
with the Truth in the creation. This monumental work is, therefore, an account
of the stages of the journey of the gnostic, systematized in a logical dress.
In content, the first book of the Asfdr deals with Being and its various
manifestations; the second with the simple substances, i.e., the intelligences,
souls, and bodies and their accidents including, therefore, natural philosophy ;
the third with theodicy; and the fourth with the soul, its origin, becoming,
and end. All these topics are treated in detail taking into account the
views of previous sages and philosophers so that the work as a whole is quite
voluminous. 15 In a sense this vast opus is the culmination of a thousand
years of contemplation and thought by Muslim sages as well as the foundation
of a new and original intellectual perspective which issues forth from within
the matrix of the Muslim tradition.
14 E. G. Browne, op. cit., Vol. IV, p. 430.
15 The 1282/1865 Teheran lithographed edition with the commentaries of Sabzi-
wari on the margin runs over a 1,000 large pages and the new edition by Mr.
Tabatabft'i with running commentary by himself and several other Hakims
of the Qajar period including Sabziwari and Mulla 'Ali Nuri is planned in nine
400-page volumes of which three have appeared so far. The Asfdr which is used
in the graduate school of the theological faculty in Teheran University is taught
over a three-year period and then only a part of the First Book is covered. It
is said that Haji Mulla Hadi Sabziwari, the greatest Persian Hakim after Mulla
Sadra, taught the complete Asfdr to his advanced disciples over a six -year period.
937
A History of Muslim Philosophy
B
SOURCES OF MULLA SADRA'S DOCTRINES
According to Mulla Sadra, there are two forms of knowledge: that derived
from formal instruction (al-'ilm al-suwari) and that which comes from intel-
lectual intuition (al-'ilm al-ladunni). The first is acquired in school with the
aid of a teacher, and the second based upon a greater degree of certainty
than the first, is the science possessed by the prophets and saints through
the purification of the soul and the catharsis (tajrid) of the intellect." There
are then, according to this view, two sources for Mulla Sadra's ideas, one
formal and in a sense historical, i.e., manifested in history before him' and
the other spiritual and invisible. Regarding this second source, which' may
be called his "guardian angel" or "hidden Imam," the source of all inner
illumination, we have little to say except to emphasize its importance in
Mulla Sadra's view.
It is with the first category that we are primarily concerned here. There
are five principal elements which are clearly detectable in the new synthesis
brought about by Mulla Sadra; they are also found, though less explicitly
m the doctrines of the Safawid sages before him. These elements include the
philosophy of Aristotle and his followers, the doctrines of the Neo-Platonic
sages, especially Plotinus whose Enneads the Muslims considered to be a
work of Aristotle, the teachings of ibn Slna, the gnostic doctrines of ibn
'Arabi, and the principles of the Islamic revelation, especially the more esoteric
teachings of the Prophet and the Shi'ah Imams." Among these sources the
last two are of particular importance. Mulla Sadra created a new school of
Hilcmat, on the one hand, by putting the intuitions of the gnostics and especially
of ibn 'Arabi and his followers into a logical dress and, on the other hand by
drawing out the philosophical and metaphysical implications of the teachings
of the Imams especially as contained in the Nahj al-Balaghah, creating thereby
for the first time what may be called a distinctly Muslim school of Hikmat
based especially upon the inspired doctrines which form the very basis of
Shi'ism.
Mulla Sadra, like Suhrawardi, held in great esteem the pre-Socratic philo-
sophers and sages of Greece, both historical and mythological, and regarded
Thales, Anaximander, Agathedemon, Empedocles, Pythagoras, Socrates Plato
and Aristotle as the last group of sages in the ancient world to have possessed
wisdom in its entirety. He, like many other Muslim Hakims, considered Greek
philosophy not to have started with Aristotle but to have ended with him
and believed all the later Greek sages to have been masters of various arts
" Mulla Sadra, Mafatih al-Gkaib, al-Miftah al-Thalith, al-Mashhad al-Thamin
■ + ,. *? , ,- P r f e< * m S chapter in which the formative elements of Shfah
ScusSd g t0 MuUa - adra and ° ther ?afawid Sa = es h ^e"been
938
Sadr al-Dln SJiirazi {Mulla Sadra)
and sciences other than metaphysics. 18 For Mulla Sadra, therefore, Greek
philosophy was essentially the wisdom of the Hebrew prophets inherited,
systematized, and later in part forgotten by the Greeks, a wisdom which
was integrated into the Muslim intellectual perspective and brought to full
fruition in the bight of the Islamic revelation. That is why when Mulla Sadra
wishes to reject some aspects of the teachings of either the Peripatetics or the
Illuminationists he appeals so often first to the Qur'an and the Hadith and
then to those fragmentary sayings of the pre-Socratic philosophers with which
the Muslims were acquainted.
MULLA SADRA'S METHOD AND THE CHARACTERISTICS
OF HIS SCHOOL
The particular genius of Mulla Sadra was to synthesize and unify the three
paths which lead to the Truth, viz., revelation, rational demonstration, and
purification of the soul, which last in turn leads to illumination. For him gnosis,
philosophy, and revealed religion were elements of a harmonious ensemble
the harmony of which he sought to reveal in his own fife as well as in his
writings. He formulated a perspective in which rational demonstration or
philosophy, although not necessarily limited to that of the Greeks, became
closely tied to the Qur'an and the sayings of the Prophet and the Imams,
and these in turn became unified with the gnostic doctrines which result from
the illuminations received by a purified soul. 19 That is why Mulla Sadra's
writings are a combination of logical statements, gnostic intuitions, tradi-
tions of the Prophet, and the Qur'anic verses. Through the symbolic
18 See Asfar, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1282/1865, Book II, Section IV.
Mulla Sadra writes that these pre-Socratic philosophers actually spoke in a symbolic
language (ramzj and implied by their theory that the world was composed of a
single element, the doctrine of the unity of Being or wahdat al-vrnjud which is
the basis of the gnostic doctrines of ibn 'Arabi. Mulla Sadra in fact identifies the
water of Thales with the nafas al-Rahman or the breath of the Compassionate
which the Sufis consider to be the ultimate substance of the universe. These early
Ionians who are considered by some today to be the founders of the modern quanti-
tative sciences of nature appear to the Muslims in a different light as expositors
of universal gnosis and those who, as Mulla Sadra writes, "have adopted the light
of Hikmat from the lamp of prophecy."
" For an account of the relation of Mulla Sadra to Shi'ism and his success in
unifying the three above-mentioned elements, see M. H. Tabataba'i, "Musahibih-i
Ustad 'Allamih Tabataba'i ba Professor Henri Corbin dar Barih-i SJu'ah," Salanih-i
Maktab-i Tashayyu', No. 2, 1339 Solar, pp. 61-64. This is one of the most important
works written recently by a Shi'ah authority on the general perspective of SJhi'ism
and the various sciences developed by the Shi'ahs, and is the result of a series of
meetings between him and H. Corbin in which the latter posed several basic questions
about the spiritual attitude of Shi'ism and the relation between ghi'ism and
Hikmat and Sufism. The book was written in answer to H. Corbin's questions and
contains a wealth of precious knowledge about the intellectual life of SJhi'ism.
939
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
interpretation of the sacred text he demonstrated the gnostic quality of the
esoteric meaning of revelation and through intellectual intuition he made
rational and discursive thought subservient to the universal truths of gnosis. In
this fashion he achieved that synthesis of science and revelation in the light of
gnosis and in the general perspective of Islam towards which Farabi and ibn
Sina— the latter particularly in his Qur'anic commentaries— had aimed and
which Ghazali, Suhrawardi, and the whole chain of sages extending from the
Saljuq to the Safawid period had sought to achieve from various points of
view. 20
In metaphysics or, more generally speaking, Hikmat itself, Mulla Sadra is
credited with founding the third major school of Muslim "philosophy," the
first two being the Peripatetic school, the greatest exponent of which in the
Islamic world was ibn Sina, and the Illuminationistic or ishraqi school founded
by Suhrawardi Maqtul. 21 Mulla Sadra adopted certain principles from each
school as, for example, the hylomorphism from the Peripatetics and the grada-
tion of Being and the celestial archetypes from the Uluminationists. Moreover,
he added certain principles drawn from the teachings of the Sufis like ibn
'Arabi such as the continual becoming of the substance of the world and
unity of Being which had never appeared as principles of any school of Hikmat
and were never systematized in the logical language of the Hakims before
Akhfind's time. That is why Mulla Sadra is often credited with founding a
new and original form of wisdom in the Muslim world which is usually called
al-Hikmat al-Muti'aliyyah as distinguished from al-Hikmat al-Masha'lyyah
(Peripatetic philosophy) and al-Hikmat al-Ishraqiyyah {Illuminationist theo-
sophy). 22
20 It may at first seem surprising that Mulla Sadra wrote a treatise against
those who called themselves Sufis. But if we consider the social and political
conditions of the later Safawid period in which Sufism was greatly disdained by
political authorities and much of it had become body without a soul, we can per-
haps understand some of the motifs for Mulla Sadra's attack on it. However, the
"Sufis" whom Mulla Sadra attacked were not the Sufis proper but those who were
seeking to destroy the exoteric truths and bring about social anarchy in the name
of an esotericism that they themselves did not possess. Otherwise there is not
the least doubt of Mulla Sadra's connection with Sufism — although he preferred
to use the name gnoetic ('drif) rather than Sufi— nor can one doubt in any way
the gnostic quality of his doctrines.
21 See the chapter on Suhrawardi Maqtul.
23 If we have translated Hikmat as philosophy in one case and as theosophy in
the other, it is because the meaning of this term includes both the wisdom belonging
to the rational and mental plane or philosophy and the wisdom which transcends
the level of the ordinary human mind and which, properly speaking, belongs to
the angelic order and cannot be called philosophy as that term is currently under-
stood in European languages.
Sadr al-Dln Shirazi (Mulla Sadra)
DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES
Before discussing the basic features of Mulla Sadra's doctrines it is useful
to consider his conception of the relation of the sciences to one another and
especially the meaning and significance accorded to Hikmat. In the intro-
ductory chapter of the Asfar, he divides the sciences, following the Peripatetics,
into theoretical wisdom consisting of logic, mathematics, natural philosophy,
and metaphysics, and practical wisdom consisting of ethics, economics, and
politics. 23
In the treatise Iksir al-'Arijln, he outlines a somewhat more complete and
in a way more original division of the sciences. 2 * According to this scheme,
the sciences ('ulum) are either of this world (dunyawi) or of the other (ujchrawi) ;
the first is divided into three categories: the science of words film al-aqwal),
the science of acts ('Mm al-af'dl), and the science of states of contemplation
or thought ('Mm al-ahwal or afkdr).
The science of words comprises the sciences of the alphabet, word-con-
struction, syntax, prosody, poetics, and the meanings of terms in logic. The
science of acts consists of what belongs to various material objects from
which the arts of weaving, agriculture, and architecture come into being;
what is of a higher degree such as the art of writing, the science of mechanics,
alchemy, etc. ; what belongs to providing a living for the individual and the
society from which the sciences of family, law, politics, and the SharVah are
created; and, finally, what belongs to the acquisition of spiritual and moral
virtues and the casting away of evil from which the "science of the path"
(Him al-tariqah), i.e., Sufism, comes into being. As for the science of states
of thought, it consists of the sciences of logical demonstration, the science
of arithmetic, the science of geometry including astronomy and astrology,
and the sciences of nature including medicine and the various sciences dealing
with minerals, plants, and animals.
The sciences of the other world which are not accessible to the ordinary
intelligence of men and are not destroyed with the death of the body include
the knowledge of angels and intellectual substances, the knowledge of the
Preserved Tablet (lauh al-mafyfiiz), and the knowledge of the Exalted Pen
(al-qalam al-a'ld), i.e., of the divine decree and of the first determination of
the divine essence which Mulla Sadra, following the earlier Sufis, calls also
by the name of the reality of Muhammad (al-haqlqat al-Muhammadiyyah).
These sciences also include the knowledge of death, resurrection, and all that
pertains to life hereafter. 26
23 See J. Muslih, Falsafih-i 'Ali ya Hikmat-i Sadr al-Muti'aUihin, Vol. I, Uni-
versity Press, Teheran, 1337 Solar, p. 3.
24 Sadr al-Dln Shirazi, Rasa'U, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1302/1884, pp.
279-86.
* 5 Mulla Sadra adds at the end of this discussion that the causes for the difference
of view among various schools regarding different sciences are four in number:
941
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Among all the pursuits with which man can occupy himself in this life,
none stands in as exalted a position as Hikmat the divisions of which we
have outlined above. And among its branches none is as important and prin-
cipial as metaphysics or the science of the principle of things, so that this
branch of knowledge alone is often considered worthy of being called Hikmat.
Mulla Sadra defines this science as "coming to know the state of the essence
of beings as they are, to the extent of human capacity" or "a man's becoming
an intellectual world (microcosm) corresponding to the objective world
(macrocosm)," or, to quote still another definition, "the comprehension of
universals and catharsis from the world of matter." 26
The above definitions imply that Hikmat is a purely intellectual form of
knowledge in which the knower himself undergoes a certain transformation
in the process of knowing and his soul becomes a mirror in which the cosmic
hierarchy is reflected. With such a conception then it is no wonder that
Mulla Sadra spent so much of his life in teaching and writing about Hikmat
only and regarded all the other sciences as its subsidiaries.
E
PRINCIPLES OF MULLA SADRi'S DOCTRINES
In discussing the basic principles of Hikmat as understood and expounded
by Mulla Sadra, we have chosen to mention those major principles of his
thought which distinguish him from his predecessors and which are the charac-
teristic elements of his metaphysics. The doctrines of the Peripatetic and
Illuminationistie schools as well as the ideas of ibn 'Arabi and his followers
form the common background for the metaphysics of Mulla Sadra.
There are four topics in each of which Mulla Sadra has departed from
earlier philosophical perspectives and which form the principles of his whole
intellectual vision. These four subjects concern (1) Being and its various
polarization, (2) substantial motion or the becoming and change of the sub-
stance of the world, (3) knowledge and the relation between the knower and
the known, and (4) the soul, its faculties, generation, perfection, and final
resurrection. We shall consider these questions in the above-mentioned- order,
emphasizing in each case the particular complexion given to these subjects
by Mulla Sadra.
1. Unity and Polarization of Being. — The cornerstone of Mulla Sadra 'a
(i) differences in the science of unity leading to the creation of sects like the atheists,
etc. ; (it) the science of prophecy leading to separation between Muslims, Christians,
Jews, and other religious groups; (iii) the science of Imamate leading to division
between the Shi'ahs and Sunnls; and, finally, (iv) the science of jurisprudence
leading to the creation of various schools and interpretations of Law. Mulla Sadra
adds that the main cause of multiplicity lies in misunderstanding the science of
unity and the science of the soul or the science of the beginning and end of things.
Basd'il, pp. 287-88.
26 J. Muslih, op. cit., pp. 1-2.
942
Sadr al-Din Shlrazi (Mulla Sadra)
doctrines is the principiality and the unity and gradation of Being. As we
have already mentioned, 87 one of the major points of contention among Muslim
philosophers and theologians concerned the question whether Being or the
quiddities (mahlyyat) of things are principial. We saw that the Muslim Peri-
patetics like the Sufis believed in the principiality of Being, i.e., the objective
reality of Being independent of mental abstractions, and considered the quid-
dities to be nothing but accidents, while the Illuminationists beginning with
Suhrawardi Maqtul and followed by Mulla Sadra's own teacher, Mir Damad,
developed a "metaphysics of essences" and held the opposite view that
existence is an accident and that the essences are principial. In this debate
Mulla Sadra sided definitely with the Peripatetics and Sufis in accepting the
principiality of Being, and opposed the Illuminationists.
On the question of the unity and gradation of Being, however, Mulla Sadra
departed from Peripatetic teachings completely. In the view of the Muslim Peri-
patetics the being of each thing is in essence different and distinct from other
beings while it is principial with respect to its own quiddity. According to
Akhund. however, Being is the same reality in all realms of existence; it is
a single reality but with gradations and degrees of intensity. Just as we say
the light of the sun, the light of a lamp, or the light of a glowworm, and
mean the same subject, i.e., fight, but with different predicates, i.e., under
different conditions of manifestation, so in the case of Being, the being of
God, of a man, of a tree, or of a heap of earth are all one Being or one reality
but in various degrees of intensity of manifestation. 28 Moreover, Being, no
matter where it manifests itself, appears always with its attributes or armies
( l asdkir), as they are traditionally called, such as knowledge, will, power,
etc. 29 A stone, because it exists, is a manifestation of Being and, therefore,
has knowledge, will, power, and intelligence like men or angels. However,
since at the level of a stone the manifestation of Being is very weak, these
attributes are hidden and not perceptible. 30
The various beings in the world of manifestation are all limitations of the
one reality or Being. These limitations are abstracted by the mind and become
the forms of quiddities (mahlyyat) of things, and when transposed into the
principial domain, they become the Platonic ideas or archetypes. Unlike Being
which is objectively real and in fact is the reality of the cosmos, the mahlyyat
27 See Chapter XIX on Suhrawardi Maqtul.
28 Mulla Sadra regards light as a perfect and intelligible example of the unity
and gradation of Being and praises the Illuminationists on this point. See the
first chapter of the Asfdr.
29 See Seyyed Hossain Nasr, "The Polarisation of Being," Pakistan Philosophical
Journal, Vol. Ill,' No. 2, October 1959, pp. 8-13.
30 The doctrine of the unity and gradation of Being in Mulla Sadra is not new ;
it was expressed clearly five centuries before him by ibn 'Arabi. Mulla Sadra,
however, was the first person to give it a logical dress and introduce it as a
principle of Hikmat as distinct from pure gnosis which does not concern itself
with various logical distinctions.
943
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
are accidents of Being abstracted by the mind without having a reality
independent of Being. Even the archetypes (al-a'ydn al-thdbitah) possess a
form of Being which in this case is God's knowledge of them.
What distinguishes the earthly manifestation of things from their celestial
archetypes is not a gradation of the mahiyyat from more subtle to more gross
modes of existence, as certain followers of the Illuminationist school believe.
Rather, it is the intensity of Being which determines the level of existence
of each creature. If the light of Being shines upon the form or quiddity of a
man with a greater intensity than now, he will become the man of the inter-
mediate world fbarzakh) and if the intensity is greater still he will become
the celestial man identified with his heavenly archetype.
Absolute Being itself,, which is the proper subject for metaphysics, is above
all limitations and, therefore, above all forms or mahiyyat, above all substances
and accidents. It is the "Form of forms" and the Agent of all acts. By manifest-
ing Itself longitudinally (Mi) It brings into being the various orders of Being
from the archangels to terrestrial creatures and by manifesting Itself latitu-
dinally ( l ardi) It creates the various members of each order of Being. 31 Being
is the reality of all things so that the knowledge of anything is ultimately the
knowledge of Its being and, therefore, of Being Itself. Likewise, the arche-
types exist eternally through God's knowledge of them; their being is in fact
this very knowledge without which they would have no share whatsoever in
Being.
Since Being is unity in multiplicity and multiplicity in unity, 32 it partakes
of logical distinctions and divisions while remaining in essence indivisible
and above all polarizations. Mulla Sadra goes into great detail about the
various divisions and categories of Being and in fact most of the first book
of the Asfdr is concerned with them. We mention here a few of the divisions
which Akhund discusses with great rigour in his various writings, especially
in the monumental Asfdr.
One division of Being is into connective being (al-vmjnd al-irtibdti) and
self-subsistent being (al-wujud al-najsi). Connective being is that which con-
nects a subject with a predicate as in the statement: "Man is a rational
animal." Self-subsistent being is one which stands independently by itself and
31 In dividing the hierarchies of universal existence into longitudinal and
latitudinal orders Mulla Sadra follows the scheme of ishraqi angelology, which
was discussed in the chapter on Suhrawardi Maqtul.
32 What distinguishes the gnostics from the Hakims in this subject is that the
former formulate the illuminations they receive which differ depending upon
the degree of their inner realization. One gnostic in a certain state of contemplation
(Ml) may have been aware of only the creatures or multiplicity as a reflection of
unity, another of only God or Unity, and a third of unity in multiplicity. The
Hakims, however, from a theoretical and more logical point of view, do not
take particular perspective of the traveller upon the path (salik) into con-
sideration and have even criticized some of the gnostics for considering multi-
plicity to be completely unreal.
Sadr al-Dln Shirazi (Mulla Sadra)
is not simply the means of connecting two terms. This category of being which
exists in itself is in turn divided into three kinds: that which in objective
existence is not the quality of something else and is called substance (jauhar),
that which is the quality of something else and is called accident ('ard),
and, finally, that which has need of no cause outside of itself, i.e., the Being
of God. From another point of view Mulla Sadra considers the being of all
things other than God to be the connective being (wujud al-rdbit) and
only the Being of God to be Being per se. 33
Another division of Being adopted by Mulla Sadra is that of the necessary
(wdjib), possible (mumkin), and impossible (mumtani' ) beings which nearly
all the Muslim philosophers and many theologians coming after ibn Sina and,
following his example, have accepted. 34 If the intellect considers a being and
finds that the meaning of being is essential to it, i.e., lies in its essence, and
that there are no causes outside it which have brought it into being, that
being is called the Necessary Being. If it has need of a cause outside itself it
is called possible being. Moreover, the attribute of possibility pertains to its
quiddity as well as to its being. The possibility of its quiddity concerns its
relation to its particular being, and the possibility of its being pertains to its
relation to the Necessary Being. The being or existence of each object, therefore,
depends upon the being of God and the knowledge of anything upon the
knowledge of the root or principle of its own being. Since the root or basis of the
Necessary Being is unknowable, the knowledge of the being of things remains
also unknowable to us and it is only the quiddities or mahiyyat which we can
know.
These quiddities, as already mentioned, are the limitations placed upon
being and abstracted by the mind. The intellect in perceiving any object
immediately analyses it into being and quiddity, the latter consisting of the
limit or determination of the former. It is only in the case of the Divine Being
that such an analysis cannot be made because Absolute Being has no mdhiyyah.
One can say that It is without mdhiyyah or that Its Being and mdhiyyah
are identical.
The quiddities in themselves are only mental concepts without a separate
objective existence so that the effects produced by things come from their
being and not from their quiddity. Likewise, cause and effect are categories of
being which in one case becomes the cause and in the other the effect of things.
The mahiyyat are either particular or universal; the latter either exist before
particulars or are abstracted by the intellect from particulars. 36 The universals
33 By this latter distinction, Mulla Sadra implies the difference which exists, or
at least used to exist, in European languages between Being and existence. All
creatures exist but only in the case of God can one, properly speaking, say that
He "is." See Seyyed Hossein Nasr, "The Polarisation of Being," op. cit., pp. 8-13.
34 See ibn Sfna, Kitab al-Shija' (Ilahlyyat), Teheran, lithographed edition, pp.
29 Iff.
35 The feature which distinguishes particulars from one another and determines
all other qualities in them is, according to Mulla Sadra, their degree of being.
945
A History of Muslim Philosophy
which exist independently of all particulars are the archetypes of Platonic
ideas upon the reality of which Suhrawardi Maqtul had insisted against the
view of the Peripatetics. Mulla Sadra likewise criticizes Aristotle and ibn
Sina for considering the Platonic ideas to be nothing but the forms of things
impinged upon the divine intellect. He insists upon the reality of the arche-
types in a spiritual world that is completely independent of the world of
particulars as well as of all mental images formed in the human mind. 36
Akhund praises Suhrawardi Maqtul and accepts fully the reasons he had
given for the existence of the Platonic ideas or "masters of the species"
(arbab al-anwa'). There is a spiritual man in the spiritual world who is the
real cause for the activities and ontological qualities of the terrestrial man;
likewise in the case of other species each has an intelligible idea or archetype
which governs all the activities and life of that species on earth.
The archetype is in essence one with its particulars but differs from them
in characteristics which arise from the substance or "matter" of the particu-
lars. The archetype appears different in each stage (taur) of manifestation
while in the realm of reality it is one and the same truth. The beings of this
world are the reflections and shadows of the archetypes so that they are
like them and share in their reality and at the same time are different from
them in being less real and farther removed from the source of Being.
One of the principles for which Akhund is famous is called imkan al-ashraf
or "the possibility of that which is superior." According to this principle, just
as each being in treading the path of perfection passes through various stages
from the lowest to the highest, so it is necessary that for each imperfect being
in this world there be degrees of being in the higher stages of the cosmic
hierarchy, since each being has descended from the divine Principle through
intermediate states of being. For example, the being of man on earth in his
present state of imperfection necessitates the being of man in the intermediary
world of souls, and the latter the being of the spiritual man in the intelligible
world. According to this principle, therefore, the very existence of quiddities
in their earthly state of being necessitates the existence of these forms in the
intermediate world of souls or the world of inverted or reflected forms (al-
amthdl al-mu'allaqah) and these in turn necessitate their existence in the
spiritual world of simple intellectual substances.
After showing that the mahiyyat are in reality limitations of being, Mulla
Sadra goes on to assert that the logical distinction made by Aristotle and all
36 Mulla Sadra writes that it was Hermes who learnt about the truth of
the "Platonic ideas" when he became illuminated by tho light of the intelligible
world and separated from the world of the senses. In this state Hermes met an
illuminated figure in the spiritual world who taught him all the sciences and when
he asked the figure who he was, the figure answered, "I am thy perfect nature
(ana tabti'aka al-tam)" Asjar, p. 121. For a study of the rich symbolism of "per-
fect nature," which means the celestial or angelic part of the human soul, see
H. Corbin, "Le recit d'initiation et l'hermetisme en Iran," Eranos Jahrbuch, Vol.
17, 1949, pp. 121-88.
946
Sadr al-Dln Shirazi (Mulla Sadra)
the later philosophers between substance and the accidents which together
form the ten categories concerns only the mahiyyat; Being, properly speaking,
is neither substance nor accident but above both. When we say of a thing
that it is such and such a substance or that its particular quality and
quantity are its accidents we refer only to its mahlyyah and not to its being.
The ralation of cause and effect, however, contrary to that of substance
and accidents, concerns only the being of things. 37 All things in the universe
have a cause and an effect and since everything is a manifestation of Being,
every effect is but an aspect of its cause and cannot in essence differ from
it. That is why the well-known principle that from unity only unity can
issue forth, ex uno non fit nisi unum, must be true. From the divine essence
which is simple and one, only a simple being can issue forth. Mulla Sadra
calls this first manifestation of the divine essence extended being (wujud
al-munbasit), the first intellect, the sacred effusion (faid al-muqaddas) or the
Truth of truths (haqiqat aUhaqd'iq) which he considers to be one in essence
but partaking of degrees and stages of manifestation. 38
He divides reality into three categories: of the divine essence, of "Absolute
Being" which he identifies with extended being, and of relative being which is
that of the creatures. 39 The cause of all things, therefore, is extended being
which in turn is the first determination of the divine essence. God is, thus, the
Cause of causes and the Ultimate Source of all effects to be seen in the universe,
because all causes and effects arise from the beings of things and all beings
are in reality the stages of the One Being.
To terminate our discussion of the polarizations of Being in cosmic existence
we must also consider the question of form and matter. On this question
Mulla Sadra sides with the Peripatetics and is against the Illuminationists
in accepting the theory of hylomorphism. In his view, however, matter is
not limited to the corporeal domain. Rather, it is the aspect of potentiality
which manifests itself in all the realms of existence according to the conditions
of that particular realm. Bodies have a matter belonging to the corporeal
world, and souls (anfds), a matter conformable to the subtle world of the
psyche ; moreover, in each world matter is a lower degree of being of the form
with which it is united and for that reason accompanies it in all realms
of existence until the highest realm which is the world of pure intelligences
37 For the general discussion on cause and effect, see J. Muslih, op. cit., pp. 85 ff.
38 It is this "simple being" or the supreme intellect which the Sufis before
Mulla Sadra identified with the reality of Muhammad. See ibn 'Arabi, La sagesse
des propUtes, tr. T. Burckhardt, Albin Michel, Paris, 1955, pp. 181 ff.
39 According to a principle — which is another of the well-known doctrines for-
mulated by Mulla Sadra and is called basit al-haqlqah kull al-askya\ i.e.,
Truth in its state of simplicity contains all things — the divine essence in its state
of simplicity and "contraction" contains all realities within itself. This is indeed
a direct consequence of the principle of the unity of Being; if there is but one Being
and the whole universe is nothing but Being, the universe and all its realities are
contained in a state of "contraction" in that One Being,
947
A History of Muslim Philosophy
(mujarradat). That is why, as Akhund expresses it, matter has love for
form which forever compels it to seek union with it (form). Only in the intel-
ligible world, which is also called the 'alam al-jabarut, are the spiritual realities
completely separated from and free of all species of matter, even the most subtle.
2. Substantial Motion. — The question of potentiality leads to that of motion
because motion, as Aristotle said, is becoming actual of that which is
potential. Mulla Sadra rejects the possibility of sudden change from one
substance to another which the Peripatetics accepted along with gradual
change. Rather, he considers all change to be a form of motion and introduces
the idea of substantial motion (ai-harakat al-jauhariyyah) , 40 which is another
of the well-known principles associated with his name, as a basis of his whole
outlook from which he goes on to prove the creation of the world in time,
bodily resurrection, and many other doctrines that will be discussed in the
course of this chapter.
It is well known that the Muslim Peripatetics, following Aristotle, limited
motion to only four of the ten categories, i.e., quantity (ham), quality (kaif),
place (makan), and substance, 41 the last understood only in the sense of
generation and corruption. Ibn Sina rejected completely substantial motion
in any sense other than instantaneous coming into being and passing away
and argued that since the essence of a thing depends upon its substance, if
that substance were to change, its essence would also change and lose its
identity. 42
40 See J. Muslih, op. cit., p. 100. This distinction may seem to differ from what
was said previously. But it must be remembered that the divine essence cannot
be limited to Being, which is its first determination as well as the principle of
universal manifestation. It is this distinction to which Akhund is referring here.
41 Muila Sadra placed so much emphasis upon this point that he discussed it
not only in the First Book of the Asfar but in many other chapters of the work
and in nearly all of his other books as well. See also H. A. Rashid, Dau Fttsuf-i
Sharq wa Gharb, Parwin Press, Ispahan, 1334 Solar, pp. 50ff., and J. Muslih, op.
cit., pp. 128ff. Mulla Sadra in the Second Book of the Asfar and other places insists
that he is not the first among the Hakims to have introduced this idea but that
the pre-Socratic philosophers had indicated although not explicitly the existence
of substantial motion. Moreover, he gives the Qur'anic verses such as "Do ye
create it or are We the Creator ? We mete out death among you, and We are not
to be outrun, that We may transfigure you and make you what ye know not"
(lvi, 59-61, Pickthall's translation) in support of his view.
42 See ibn Sina, Danish-Nameh-i 'Ald'i, (Tabi'iyyat), University Press, Teheran,
1331/1912, pp. 3ff. Aristotle also in De Oen'eratione et Corruptions (319b, 31-320a,
2) divides motion into the four categories of quantity, quality, place, and
substance, and speaks of substantial change as one of the processes which charac-
terize the sublunary region. But by substantial change Aristotle means only
generation and corruption and for that reason later Muslim philosophers did not
even apply the term "motion" to it and considered motion to belong only to the
categories of quantity, quality, locomotion, and posture.
Mulla Sadra, however, considers substantial motion to be an inner transformation
of things somewhat in the alchemical sense in which there is not simply a coming
into being and a passing away but a process through which a new Btate of being
948
Sadr al-Dln ghirazi (Mulla Sadra)
Following the Sufis, Mulla Sadra considered the world to be like a stream
of water which is flowing continually and believes motion to be nothing but
the continuous regeneration and re-creation of the world at every instance. 43
According to him, it is not only the accidents but the substance of the universe
itself that partakes of motion and becoming, i.e., continuous re-creation and
rebirth. 44 In order to prove this assertion, Akhund makes use of several
arguments. For example, he writes that it is an accepted fact that accidents
have need of a substance upon which they depend for their being and proper-
ties. Their subsistence depends upon the subsistence of their substence and
their creation and regeneration upon its creation and regeneration. Therefore,
every change which takes place in the accidents of a body must be accompanied
by a corresponding change in the substance ; otherwise the being of the former
would not follow the being of the latter. Or, in other words, since the effect
must be the same as its cause, the cause or substance of a changing accident
must itself be changing.
In addition, it is known that all beings in the universe are seeking perfection
and are in the process of becoming and change in order to overcome their
imperfections. Since divine manifestation never repeats itself, God creates
new theophanies at every moment in order to remove imperfections and
bring new perfections to things. The matter of each being, therefore, is con-
tinuously in the process of wearing a new dress, i.e., being wed to a new
form, without, however, casting away its older dress. It is only the rapidity
of this change that makes it imperceptible and guarantees the continuity and
identification of a particular being through the stages of substantial motion.
According to Mulla Sadra, each body consists of matter and two forms:
one, the form of the body which gives matter dimensions and the possibility
of accepting other forms, and the other the form of the species (surah nau'iy-
yah) which determines the species and identity of the body. Each of these
is reached. Moreoever, substantial change for the Aristotelians is sudden and
instantaneous while for Akhund it is gradual like other forms of motion. Also,
substantial change in the Aristotelian sense is limited to the sublunary region,
while for Mulla Sadra the whole of gross and subtle manifestation partakes of
substantial motion. Akhund's conception of substantial change, therefore, cannot
be identified with that of Aristotle and should not be confused with it because of
similarity in terminology.
For an analysis of Aristotle's doctrine of motion, see also H. A.Wolfson, Crescas'
Critique of Aristotle, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1929, pp. 512ff.
43 Ibn Sina, S&ifa' (Tabi'iyyat), pp. 43-44.
44 The idea that God annihilates and re-creates the world at every moment is
one that is shared by the majority of the Sufis. Jalal al-Dln Rumi expresses it :
"Every moment the world is being renewed, and we
unaware of its perpetual change.
Life is ever pouring in afresh, though in the body
it has the semblance of continuity."
R. A. Nicholson, Rumi, Poet and Mystic, George Allen & Unwin, London, 1950,
p. 117. See also T. Burckhardt, Introduction to Sufi Doctrine, tr. D. M. Matheson,
Shaikh Muhammad Ashraf, Lahore, 1959, Chap. IV.
949
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
two forms is at every instant changing, and matter is taking on new forms at
every moment. Moreover, at each stage of substantial change the totality
of a being which itself consists of form and matter may be considered to be the
matter of the aspect of potentiality for the next stage the actualized aspect of
which then becomes the form.
The power or force which motivates this change is nature which is a force
hidden within the cosmic substance. In fact, since Being comes before nothing-
ness, motion in this world comes before rest through the force immanent in
the cosmos. Needless to say, this motion is limited to the degrees of cosmic
existence in which matter is present, i. e., to corporeal and subtle manifestation,
and does not extend to the world of pure intelligences or archetypes which
are beyond all change.
Substantial motion itself has also the two aspects of change and permanence.
Each form has two faces, one in the world of archetypes and the other in
nature, the first permanent and the second in continuous renewal. The sub-
stance of the world itself is, therefore, the intermediary between permanence
and change ; it possesses two aspects, one which is continuously in motion and
the other, which Mulla Sadra identifies with the intelligences, above all change.
Time, for Akhund as for Aristotle, is the quantity of motion, which, in a
world of continuous substantial motion, becomes an inherent feature of cosmic
existence. 45 It is, more specifically, the measure of the substantial motion of
the heavens but not the measure of their rotation as held by the Peripatetics.
The heavens, according to Mulla Sadra, are in continuous contemplation of
the perfection of their beloveds, i.e., the universal intellects which at every
instant cause a new form to be projected upon the essence of the universal
souls. The cause of celestial motion is, therefore, the desire to reaching per-
fection, a goal which, because of its limitlessness, makes celestial motion end-
less. The heavens are in continuous creative worship, their motion being a
sign of their contemplation of the divine by means of the intelligences, and
their causing generation and growth in nature through their illumination
being a sign of their act of creation. The whole world, therefore, both in its
gross and subtle domains, partakes of substantial motion, and time is the
measure of this motion as it occurs in the heavens where it is most regular
as well as regulatory. 46
45 Substantial motion is essentially a rebirth because it always means the attain-
ment of a new state of Being.
46 From what we have said above it is clear that in Mulla Sadra's view motion
is principial, for it is an inherent characteristic of corporeal and even subtle
existence, and time is subservient to it contrary to the view of many previous philo-
sophers who considered motion to be subservient to time. Mulla Sadra's concep-
tion of time as the quantity of substantial motion, which is itself the renewal of
cosmic existence, bears much resemblance to the doctrine of abu al-Barakat al-
Baghdadi for whom also time is the measure or dimension of existence. See S. Pines,
NouveUes etudes aur Awhod al-Zamdn Abu'l-Barakat cd-Baghdddi, Librairie Dur-
lacher, Paris, 1955, Chap. II.
950
I
Sadr al-DIn Shirazi (Mulla Sadra)
Mulla Sadra makes use of the principle of substantial motion to explain
many of the most intricate problems of metaphysics and physics including
the relation between permanence and change which we have already mentioned,
the creation of the world, the creation of the soul, and various eschatological
questions. This principle can, therefore, be regarded as one of the distin-
guishing features of his doctrinal formulation.
As to the question of creation Akhund opposes the simple creation ex nihilo
of the theologians who believe the world to have been brought into being
in time from utter nothingness. Likewise, he rejects the view of the Peripatetics
who believe the world to have been created only in essence or in principio
but not in time and the view of Mir Damad about al-huduth al-dahri." Mulla
Sadra believes that creation is in time (al-huduth al-zamani) because through
substantial motion the being of the universe is renewed at every moment or,
more explicitly, that the world is created at every instant, so that one can say
that the being of the world depends upon its non-being at a previous moment.
Where he differs from the theologians is that his conception of creation
ex nihilo is complementary to the view that the archetypes of the world of
creation exist changelessly in the intelligible world and that the world is
connected with its divine origin through a permanent hierarchy.
This hierarchy begins with the first determination of the essence which
Akhund, following the Sufis, calls the reality of Muhammad. 48 This is followed
by the pure intelligences which are completely separated from matter and
potentiality, the last of which is the giver of forms to the universe and
the governor of the world of generation and corruption. 4 * This last intellect
is like a mill that grinds out new forms at every moment to feed the hyle of
the world. It governs the world according to divine decree and gives revelation
to prophets and inspiration to saints. Following the intelligible hierarchy
there is the world of cosmic imagination or inverted or reflected forms or the
purgatory between the intelligible and the material domains and, finally, the
visible universe. The world is, therefore, created in time in the sense that its
being is renewed after a moment in which it "was not"; at the same time
it is the terminal state of an immutable hierarchy which through the
subtle and angelic realms of being relates the visible cosmos to its divine
source.
3. Divine and Human Knowledge. — From what we have already said, it is
clear that for Mulla Sadra knowledge forms the very substance of cosmic
manifestation itself and is moreover the gate to and means of salvation for the
soul. Like all other gnostics Akhund considers knowledge and being, or, from
47 In Fast 33 of the first book of the Asjar, Akhund writes that all bodies are
limited within the four dimensions of length, breadth, depth, and time, and are
differentiated by the division inherent in time, while their unity is preserved
through their celestial archetypes or Platonic ideas.
48 See Chapter XLVII.
49 See Mulla Sadra, cU-Wdridat al-Qalbiyyah, Rasa'il, pp. 243-49.
951
A History of Muslim Philosophy
another point of view, the knower and the known, 50 to be essentially the
same and identifies the being of things with God's knowledge of them. 51 God
knows His own essence and His essence is none other than His Being, and
since His Being and essence are the same, He is at once the knower, the
knowledge, and the known.
In the case of the pure intellects or forms that are completely divorced
from matter also, the intellect and the intelligible are the same, the difference
in the two instances being that, although knowledge of the intellects is identical
with their being, it is not identical with their quiddities, since their being sur-
passes their quiddities, whereas in the case of God knowledge is identical both
with Being and quiddity, since God's quiddity is the same as His Being. 62
Mulla Sadra rejects the Peripatetic notion that God's knowledge of things
is the projection of their forms upon His essence as well as the idea followed
by many Illuminationists that God's knowledge is the presence of the very
forms of things in His essence. Rather, he uses the gnostic symbol of a mirror
and considers the divine essence a mirror in which God sees the forms
or essences of all things and in fact, through the contemplation of these forms
or archetypes in the mirror of His own essence, He brings all things into being.
Moreover, since the forms of all creatures, universal as well as particular,
are reflected in His essence, God has knowledge of every particle of the uni-
verse. 53
Mulla Sadra divides knowledge ('Urn) into acquired (husuli) knowledge
and innate (huduri) knowledge and, like the Illuminationists, divides the
50 The world of change here as in the ease of Suhrawardi Maqtul means the
whole visible universe and not only the sublunary region of the Aristotelians.
According to Mulla Sadra, the difference between the sublunary region composed
of the four elements and the heavens composed of ether lies only in that the matter
of the heavens is more subtle than the gross matter of the terrestrial environment
and is governed by pure souls that are free from the passions of earthly souls.
51 The principle that the intellect, intelligence, and the intelligible are one (ittihad
al-'aqil w-al-ma'qul) is another point in which Mulla Sadra opposed the previous
Muslim philosophers. This principle, which was accepted by the Neo-Platonists,
was rejected by ibn Sina (see Isharat, Haidari Press, Teheran, 1379/1959, Vol. Ill,
pp. 292-93) and other Peripatetics. Akhund, while acknowledging his debt to
Porphyry and earlier Greek philosophers (see his Rasd'il, p. 319), considered him-
self the first among Muslims to have reinstated this principle which is made a
cornerstone of his intellectual edifice. Actually Afdal al-Dm Kashani and before
him abu al-Hasan 'Amiri in his Kitab al-FufQl fi al-Ma'alim al-Ilahiyyah had
accepted this principle (see M. Minosie, "Az Khaza'in-i Turktyyah," Revue de la
Facidte des Lettres, Universite de Teheran, Vol. IV, No. 3, Mars 1957, p. 59), but
it was Mulla Sadra who first systematized this principle and demonstrated it
clearly.
For a discussion of the principle of the union of the intellect and the intelligible,
see Asfar, pp. 277 ff.
52 "God's knowledge of things is identical with their being" (Mulla Sadra, oZ-
Skawahid al-Rububiyyah, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1236/1820, p. 36).
53 See Mulla Sadra, Shark al-Bidayah al-Athiriyyah, Teheran, lithographed
edition, 1315/1897, pp. 308-09.
952
Sadr al-Din ghirazi (Mulla Sadra)
latter category into the knowledge of a thing of itself, of a cause of its effect,
and of an effect of its cause. Perception is for him a movement from potentiality
to actuality and an elevation in the degree of being in which the perceiver
or knower rises from his own level of existence to the level of existence of
that which is perceived through the union between the knower and the
known which characterizes all intellection.
As for acquired knowledge or the knowledge of the human soul of things
other than itself, it is not a reflection of the forms of things upon the soul
and the soul does not have a passive role in the act of knowing. Rather, since
man is a microcosm composed of all degrees of existence, his knowledge of
things comes from the contemplation of these forms in the mirror of his own
being much like divine knowledge with the difference that God's knowledge
leads to objective existence (cd~wujud al-'aini) of forms, while man's knowledge
leads only to their mental existence (al-vmjvd al-dhihni). Otherwise, man's soul
has a creative power similar to that of God; its knowledge implies the creation
of forms in the soul — forms the subsistence of which depends upon the soul
as the subsistence of the objective universe depends upon God. 54
According to Mulla Sadra, mental existence or the presence in the mind
of forms that yield knowledge of things as well as knowledge of itself is
above the categories of substance and accidents and is identical with Being
Itself. The knowledge that the soul has of things is just like the illumination
of the light of Being. This knowledge establishes the form of that which is
perceived in the mind, as Being establishes and manifests the forms and
quiddities of things externally. Moreover, it repeats in an inverted order the
degrees of cosmic manifestation. Just as cosmic existence originates from the
divine essence through the world of the intelligences and consists of the degrees
of cosmic souls, bodies, forms, and matter, so knowledge begins from the
senses, then rises to the level of the imagination, apprehension, and finally
intellection ascending the scale of Being to the summit from which the whole
of universal manifestation has descended.
4. Soul, Its Origin, Becoming, and Entdechy. — Another of the important
changes which Mulla Sadra brought about in the formulation of Hikmat was
the emphasis he laid upon the importance of psychology or the science of the
soul film al-najs) above and beyond what Peripatetic philosophy had accorded
to it. Moreover, he removed the discussion of psychology from physics or
natural philosophy and made it a branch of metaphysics and a study that is
complementary to the science of the origin of things. 65
The soul (nafs), according to Mulla Sadra, is a single reality which first
!
i
54 See his BascfU, p. 240, where he quotes the Qur'anic statement that "not a
particle of dust in the heavens and earth is hidden from God's knowledge" as a
support and consequence of his conception of divine knowledge.
85 Akhund adds that in the case of prophets and saints, the creative power of
the soul becomes so great that like God Himself it can even create objective and
external forms.
953
A History of Muslim Philosophy
appears as the body (jism) and then through substantial motion and an
inner transformation becomes the vegetative soul, then the animal soul, and
finally the human soul. This development occurs from within the substance
of the original body without there being any effusion from the heavenly souls
or the active intellect. 56 The substance of the human sperm is at first potentially
a plant ; then as it grows in the womb it becomes actually a plant and poten-
tially an animal. At birth, it is actually an animal and potentially human,
and finally at the age of adolescence it is actually human and potentially
either an angel or a disciple of the devil. 67 All of these stages lie hidden within
the first substance or germ which through substantial motion traverses the
degrees of being until it becomes completely divorced from all matter and
potentiality and enjoys immortality in the world of pure intelligences. 58 The
soul is, therefore, brought into being with the body but it has spiritual sub-
sistence independent of the body. 59 Or, to be more precise, the soul at the
beginning "is" the body which through inner transformation passes through
various stages until it becomes absolutely free from matter and change.
The soul in each stage of its journey acquires a new faculty or set of faculties.
As a mineral it has the faculty of preserving its form and as a plant, the faculties
of feeding, growth, and the transformation of foreign substances into its own
form. As an animal the faculties of motion and various forms of desire
are acquired, and as a higher animal it develops in addition to the ex-
ternal senses the inner faculties of memory and imagination. 60 Finally, in
man the five inner faculties : sensus communis (hiss al-mushtarik) which per-
ceives forms, apprehension (wahm) which perceives meanings, fantasy (khayal)
which preserves forms, memory (dhakirah) which preserves meanings and the
double faculty of imagination (mutakhayyilah), and thought (mutafakkirah)
which in the first case governs the sensible and in the second the intelligible
domains, are also acquired. 61 Throughout its development it is the same
56 The whole of the fourth book of the As far is devoted to the science of the
soul where the soul takes on a meaning totally different from the quasi-material
substance of the Aristotelians.
Mulla Sadra often speaks of the complete science of things as mabda' w-al-ma'ad,
the origin and end, and has even a book by this name. He identifies the science of
mabda' with theodicy and metaphysics and that of ma'ad with psychology and
57 The view of Mulla Sadra regarding the growth and perfection of the soul
resembles the alchemical view in which the power to reach perfection is con-
sidered to lie within matter itself and not outside it.
88 Mulla Sadra, al-Shawahid al-Rububiyyah, pp. 152ff.
59 That is why Akhund writes that "the first seed of the universe was the intellect
and the last stage is also the intellect which is the fruit of that same tree" (ibid.,
p. 165).
60 This principle which in Arabic is called jismaniyat al-huduth wa ruhaniyal
al-baqa" is another of the doctrines for which Mulla Sadra is famous.
S1 We have not enumerated these faculties in detail because Mulla Sadra follows
the earlier Muslim authors especially ibn Sina on this point. See Chapter LXVI
on "Natural History" regarding the various faculties.
954
Sadr al-Din §hirazi (Mulla Sadra)
single soul which in one case appears as sight, in another as memory, and
in yet another as desire. The faculties are not something added to the soul
but it is the soul itself or, in a more esoteric sense, Being itself which appears
in various forms in each case. 82 The soul passes through this stream of becom-
ing — this world — and the parts of its course are marked by the archetypes
or Platonic ideas that distinguish one species from another. It wears a new
dress and a new guise at each point of the stream but the traveller is through-
out one and the same. 63
Although the enumeration of the inner faculties by Mulla Sadra is essen-
tially the same as that made by previous Muslim authors borrowing it
from Aristotle, there is one point in which Mulla Sadra departs from the
Peripatetics completely. It is well known that Aristotle considered only the
universal intellect to be immortal and the Muslim Peripatetics like ibn Sina
accorded immortality only to the intellectual part of the human soul. Mulla
Sadra, following certain Sufi and Hermetic teachings, asserts that the faculty
of imagination enjoys also a form of immortality or at least existence inde-
pendent of the body. He considers the universe to consist of three domains:
the intelligible world, the sensible world, and an intermediate world (barzakh)
of imagination which is macrocosmic as well as microcosmic. The faculty of
imagination in man as well as in some of the higher animals is, according to
Akhund, a microcosmic counterpart of the cosmic imagination and has the
power of creating forms. Upon the death of the body, this faculty, like the
intellectual part of the soul, enjoys a form of life of its own and may in fact
lead the souL to the intermediate world if it is the dominant element in the
soul.
Mulla Sadra, like other Sufis, compares the soul to the cosmos on the one
hand and to the Qur'an on the other, identifying the higher states of being
of the soul with the esoteric meanings of the Qur'an. 84 There are seven degrees
of existence for the soul as there are seven heavens and seven levels of inter-
pretation of the Qur'an. These degrees he enumerates as nature (tabl'ah),
soul (nafs), intellect f'aql), spirit (ruk), secret (sirr), hidden secret (khafi),
62 Al-Shawahid al-Rububiyyah, pp. 134ff.
83 By emphasizing the immanent aspect of the development of the soul, Mulla
Sadra does not forget the transcendent factor, for in the treatise Ikslr al-'Arifin
he writes that the archangel Israf il blows life into the body and gives it the power
of sensation and motion, that Mfka'il enables the body to assimilate food and
sends it its sustenance, that Jibrll gives it instruction regarding the revelation and
acts of worship and finally that 'Izra'il enables the soul to abstract forms from
matter and to separate itself from the body. Rasd'il, pp. 306-07.
** Concerning the traditional conception of cosmic becoming, see A. K. Cooma-
raswamy, "Gradation and Evolution," Isis, XXXV, 1944, pp. 15-16; XXXVIII,
1947-48, pp. 87-94.
As for the unity of the soul which from the gnostic point of view is identified
with the divine essence or self, see A. K. Coomaraswamy, "On the One and Only
Transmigrant," Journal of the American Oriental Society, June 1944, No, 3, pp.
19-43.
955
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and the most hidden state (akhfa) which is that of perfect union with God. 65
Bach corresponds to a state of being, the totality extending from the life of
nature or the senses to the divine life of union with God.
Aceording Mulla Sadra from another point of view the soul has two
faculties the practical ('amali) and the theoretical filmi or nazari), which
latter at first is dependent upon the former but later becomes completely
independent. The practical faculty consists of four stages: making use of the
Law (Sharl'ah) of various religions sent to guide mankind, purifying the soul
from evil qualities, illuminating the soul with spiritual virtues and the sciences,
and finally annihilating the soul in God, beginning with the journey to God
and then in God and finally with God. 86
As for the theoretical faculty it too is divided into four stages: the potential
or material intellect (' aql al-hayiMni) which has only the capability of accept-
ing forms, habitual intellect ('aql al-malakah) which knows only simple and
preliminary truths such as the truth that the whole is greater than its parts,
the active intellect ('aql hi al-fi'l) which no longer has need of matter and
concerns itself solely with intellectual demonstrations and is either acquired
or bestowed as a divine gift and finally the acquired intellect (' aql al-mustafad)
which is the active intellect that has been united with the divine origin of
all existence and is the highest degree attainable by man and the purpose of
cosmic existence. These stages are also road-marks upon the path trodden by
the soul without implying any form of multiplicity ; the soul remains the one
traveller traversing all these stages on the road to perfection, the fruit and
end of which is union with God.
Mulla Sadra deals with eschatology in great detail in many of his works and
departs completely from the usual philosophical language in the treatment
of this subject. His language is primarily that of the Qur'an and the Hadlth
and of the gnostics. According to Akhund, the relation of this world to the
next is like that of the mother's womb to this world. While the child is in
his mother's womb he is actually in this world as well, but being sparated
from this world does not know of its existence. likewise, man, while in this
world is also in the next but the majority of men are unaware of the invisible
world. Only the gnostics "see" the other world while they are here on earth
and that is because for them terrestrial existence has become transparent.
Akhund divides cosmic beings into five classes each of which has a destiny
and an end proper to its nature: 67 the pure intelligences separated from all
45 According to a famous hadlth of the Prophet, accepted by the Shi'ahs and
the Sunnis alike, the Qur'an has seven levels of meaning the last known only to
God. It is from the esoteric interpretation of the revealed book that Mulla Sadra
and Sufis before him have drawn the gnostic doctrines inherent and hidden in the
Islamic revelation as they are in all other revelations.
« e Iksir al-'Arifin, Baaa'U, p. 295. This terminology is a very old one in Islam;
it was adopted by the early Sufis from the traditions of the Prophets and Imams.
67 Al-ghatvdhid al-Rubublyyah, p. 140.
956
Sadr al-Din Shirazi (Mulla Sadra)
potentiality; the intelligences which govern the heavens; the various psychic
entities belonging to the world of the imagination such as the jinn and certain
parts of the human soul, animal and vegetable souls ; and, finally, minerals
and elements. The separated intelligences subsist forever in the divine essence
and are never separated from it. As for the rational soul (al-nafs al-ndtiqah),
it is either perfect, as the souls of the heavens and of some men, and, in both
cases, returns to God, or else it is imperfect. In the latter case it is either
devoid of all desire for perfection as in the animals and those human beings
who have committed much evil in this life, or it is desirous of perfection like
many persons who, having chosen the wrong path, realize their mistake and
wish to be guided towards the Truth. In the former case the soul, like other
psychic entities belonging to the intermediary world, after separation from
the body becomes united with the forms of the intermediary world of imagina-
tion ('atam al-mithal) ; 68 in the latter case the soul suffers after its separation
from the body until it is finally purified and united with God.
Plants are either used as food by men and animals and, therefore, share in
their destinies, or have an independent existence, in which case, after the end
of their terrestrial existence, they join their archetypes in the world of pure
forms. Likewise with minerals and the elements ; they too become united with
their intelligible counterparts after their terrestrial existence terminates. In
fact, these terrestrial beings are united with their archetypes even while they
are on earth, but only the gnostics are aware of this reality.
As for man's bodily resurrection on the Last Day, Mulla Sadra considers
it to be one of the great mysteries of metaphysics revealed only to those who
have reached the highest stage. 89 He accepts bodily resurrection which he
interprets in a particular fashion. It is known that man's individuality and
distinguishing characteristics come from his soul and not from his body be-
cause the substance of the body changes every few years without in any way
destroying the unity of the human beings. Of the faculties of the soul, however,
intellection and imagination are innate to it, while the vegetative and animal
faculties such as the external senses and passions are received by it through
the body. According to Akhund. in the next world all souls will receive the
power to create external forms as prophets and saints do here in this world.
For example, each soul can create the pleasure received through sight from
within itself without the need of what appears to us here as an external organ.
In other words, the organs of the body which appear as "external" to the
soul are created from within the soul in the next world so that the resurrection
of the soul is really complete with the body according to all the meanings we
can give to the word "body."
68 Mulla Sadra, Sisalah fi al-Hashr, RasaHl, pp. 341-58.
69 In the case of animals, after death they join the masters of their species
(rabb al-nau') or archetypes except the higher animals who have the faculty of
imagination developed in them. They have an independent existence in the world of
cosmic imagination without however being distinct individually as in the case of men.
957
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Difference between paradise and hell lies in that the souls in paradise
have the power to bring into being all the forms that are beautiful and pleasant,
all the flowers and houris of paradise, while the impure souls in hell
have only the power to bring into being ugly and unpleasant forms and are
in fact forced to suffer by the very forms they will have created. Mulla Sadra
adds, however, that ultimately the pains suffered in the inferno will come to
an end and, as ibn 'Arabi had said, the fires of hell will freeze and all will
return to the divine origin of things. 70
SIGNIFICANCE OF MULLA SADRA AND
HIS INFLUENCE
As mentioned in the introduction to this chapter, the importance of Mulla
Sadra lies not only in rekindling the lamp of learning and reviving the intel-
lectual sciences fully for the first time in the Muslim world after the Mongol
invasion, but also for uniting and harmonizing revelation, gnosis, and philo-
sophy together. Some authors have criticized Mulla Sadra for taking certain
principles from ibn 'Arabi, Farabi, and Suhrawardi Maqtiil and have,
therefore, refused to accept his "originality." But as Aristotle has said
so justifiably, there is nothing new under the sun. One cannot create a meta-
physics of one's own as if metaphysics were a mechanical invention. The prin-
ciples have always been and will always be the same. What determines the
originality of an author in a traditional civilization like that of Islam is his
ability to reinterpret and reformulate the eternal verities in a new light and
thereby create a new intellectual perspective.
Regarded in this way, Mulla Sadra must certainly be considered to be one
of the most significant figures in the intellectual life of Shi'ah Islam. Coming
at a moment when the intellectual sciences had become weakened, he succeeded
in reviving them by co-ordinating philosophy as inherited from the Greeks
and interpreted by the Peripatetics and Illuminationists before him with the
teachings of Islam in its exoteric and esoteric aspects. He succeeded in putting
the gnostic doctrines of ibn 'Arabi in a logical dress. He made purification of
the soul a necessary basis and complement of the study of Hikmat, thereby
bestowing upon philosophy the practice of ritual and spiritual virtues which
it had lost in the period of decadence of classical civilization. Finally, he
succeeded in correlating the wisdom of the ancient Greek and Muslim sages
and philosophers as interpreted esoterically with the inner meaning of the
Qur'an. In all these matters he represents the final stage of effort by several
70 See Mulla Sadra, al-Mabda' iv-al-Ma'ad, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1314/
189G, pp. 272ff.'
He criticizes both the naturalists who deny the existence of the soul after death
and the Peripatetics who accept only the resurrection of the soul but not of the
body.
958
Sadr al-Din Shirazi (Mulla Sadra)
generations of Muslim sages and may be considered to be the person in whom
the streams, which had been approaching one another for some centuries before,
finally united. 71
More specifically, Mulla Sadra was able to harmonize his doctrinal formulation
with the teachings of Islam in such a way as to overcome all the major diffi-
culties which the Peripatetic philosophers met in the face of the teachings of
the Qur'an and for which al-Ghazali criticized them so severely. 72 Of particular
significance was his divorcing metaphysics to a large extent both from Ptolemaic
astronomy and Aristotelian physics. While in Europe Galileo, Kepler, and
Newton were destroying the homogeneity of Aristotelian cosmology and
physics and in this way weakening the medieval Christian world-view which
was closely linked with it, Mulla Sadra, through his doctrine of substantial
motion and through considering the science of the soul to be independent of
physics, separated metaphysics to a large extent from medieval natural
philosophy. This separation, although perhaps not of immediate significance
in the eleventh/seventeenth-century Persia, which was still immune from
European ideas, became of great importance in the later centuries. As the
modern scientific world-view became more and more accepted in Persia
during the Qajar period, the separation brought about by Akhund between
metaphysics and natural philosophy helped to preserve the traditional wisdom
in the face of attacks by modernists whose only weapon was modern scientific
theories connected with the world of matter. In this way also, Akhund rendered
great service to the Muslim intellectual sciences and helped their preservation
until today.
There is no doubt that nearly the whole of the intellectual life of Persia
during the past three centuries and a half has centred around Mulla Sadra.
Of his immediate students, Mulla Muhsin Faid, 'Abd al-Razzaq Lahiji, and
Qadi Sa'id Qumi, all of whom are among the leading figures of Shi'ah Islam,
we need say little here for they have already been discussed in a previous
chapter. 73 It need only be added that these men in turn produced a generation
71 This esoteric view expressed in his commentary upon the Usui al-Kafi as
well as in the Asfar was one most attacked by the exoteric K vlama\ The religious
perspective which appeals essentially to the sentimental or passionate aspect of
human nature must insist upon "eternal" punishment and reward in order to
have its laws accepted in human society. Only the esoteric view meant for the
saintly and appealing to the contemplative aspect of man, can take into consider-
ation the relativity of heaven and hell with respect to the divine essence without
in any way denying the reality or "eternity" of reward and punishment in the life
hereafter with respect to human existence here.
52 For the background leading to Mulla Sadra, see Chapter XLVII on "The School
of Ispahan" in this work. See also Mulla Muhsin Faid, al-Mahajjat al-Baida\
Vol. I, Islamiyyah Press, Teheran, 1379/1959, introduction by Sayyid Muhammad
Mishkat, pp. 10-23, in which the background leading to Mulla Sadra as well as
the distinguishing principles of his own doctrines is discussed.
73 It will be remembered that al-Ghazali in his al-Munqidh rnin al-Dalal con-
sidered the philosophers to be infidels on three points : their rejection of the resurrec-
959
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of students who extended the teachings of Akhund far and wide. 74 In the
Qajar period, after a short interim of anarchy caused by the Afghan invasion,
the school of Mulla Sadra was once again revived, the most famous of its
members being Haji Mulla Hadi Sabziwari, Mulla *Ali Nuri, author of one
of the most important commentaries upon the Asfar, Shaikh Ahmad Ahsa'i,
founder of the Shaikhi movement and the commentator upon Mulla Sadra's
Mashd'ir, Mulla 'Ali Mudarris Zunuzi, author of a significant work Bada'i'
al-Hikam in Persian and glosses upon the Asfar, and Muhammad Hidaji,
also the author of a commentary upon the Asfar™
The influence of Akhund is to be met with wherever the traditional school
of Hikmat is still preserved and taught in Persia. 76 All the adherents of this
school have regarded Mulla Sadra as their master and it is no exaggeration
to say that Akhund stands along with Farabi, ibn Sina, al-Ghazali. Nasir
al-Dln Tusi, Suhrawardi MaqtuI, and ibn 'Arabi among the principal formula-
tors of the Muslim intellectual sciences and, though not well known outside
Persia, is no lesser a figure than his more famous predecessors." In him the
many spiritual streams of the earlier centuries met and united in a new river
which has watered the intellectual soil of Persia during the past four centuries ;
his teachings are as alive today as they were at the time of their formulation.
tion of bodies, their limiting God's knowledge to universalis, and their belief in the
eternity of the world. See W. Montgomery Watt, The Faith and Practice of al-
Ghazali, George Allen & Unwin, London, 1953, p. 37.
From what we have discussed of Mulla Sadra's doctrine it is clear that he accepted
the resurrection of bodies, God's knowledge of particulars, and creation of the
world in time though not quite in the sense as that of the theologians.
74 Mulla Sadra's doctrines were especially influential in India to which country
one of his disciples by the name of Muhammad Salih Kashani migrated — afterreaching
a wild state of ecstasy during one of Mulla Sadra's lessons — and where he attracted
many disciples. The works of Mulla Sadra have continued to be taught in the Islamic
schools of the Indian sub-continent, especially his Shark al-Hidaydh which came to
be known by the author's name as Sadra. Many glosses have been written on it
by various philosophers and scholars in India such as Muhammad Amjad al-
Sadiqi (d. 1140/1727), Mulla Hasan al-Lakhnawi (d. 1198/1783)', Muhammad A'lam
al-Sindlli (d. 1250/1834), and 'Abd al-'Ali Bahr al-'Ulum who lived in the thirteenth/
ninteenth century. Numerous manuscripts of these and other glosses on the Shark
al-Hiddyah are to be found in such libraries as the Baza Library of Rampur and
the Khuda Bakhsh Library in Patna (see the Catalogue of Arabic and Persian
Manuscripts in the Oriental Library at Bankipur, Vol. XX [Arabic MSS.], Bihar
and Orissa, 1936, MSS. No. 2351, 2368, 2371-78).
75 See Chapter XLVII on "The School of Ispahan."
7S For a list of the names of Mulla Sadra's disciples in the Qajar period, see
Raihanat al-Adab and Gobineau, op. cit., pp. 103ff.
77 Iqbal's statement that, "It is, moreover, the Philosophy of Sadra which is
the source of the metaphysics of early Babism" (Development of Metaphysics in
Persia, London, 1908, p. 175) is true only in a negative sense in the same way
as the doctrine of the Rhenish mystics might be considered to be the source of the
Protestant revolt during the Renaissance.
960
Ibn Khaldun
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Ja'far 'Ali Yasin, Sadr al-Dln al-Shirazi Mujaddid al-Falsifah al-Isldmiyyak,
al-Ma'arif Press, Baghdad, 1375/1955; Sayyid Jalal al-Dln Aghtiyani, Hasti az
Nazar-i Fatsafih wa 'Irfan, Khurasan Press, Meshed, 1379/1959; Muhammad
Husain Fadil-i Tuni, Ilahiyat, University Press, Teheran, 1333 Solar; Comte de
Gobineau, Les religions et les philosophies dans VAsie centrale, Ies Editions G. Gres
et Cie., Paris, 1923; M. al-Khudairi. "Sadr al-Din al-Shirazi," Risalat al-Islam,
No. 2, 1950, pp. 212-18, No. 3, i951, pp. 318-27; Murtada Mudarrisi Qhahardihi,
Tarikh-i FaUtsifih-i Islam, 2 Vols., 'Ilmi Press, Teheran, 1336 Solar; JawadMuslih,
Falsafih-i 'Ali ya Hikmat-i Sadr al-Muti'attihin, Vol. I, University PresB, Teheran,
1337 Solar onwards (this work is a translation and commentary of the Asfar in
Persian of which only the first of the several volumes has appeared so far) ; Husain
'Ali Rashid, Dau FUsuf-i Sharq wa Qharb, Parwln Press, Ispahan, 1334 Solar;
Sadr al-Din Shirazi, al-Asfar al-Aarba'ah, ed. Muhammad Husain Tabfifcaba'i,
Vols. I & II, Da'ir al-Ma'arif al-Islamiyyah, Qum, 1378/1958 onwards (this is a
projected nine-volume edition of the Asfar with various commentaries of which
three have appeared so far); also Teheran, lithographed edition, 1282/1865; Asrar
al-Ayat, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1322/1904; Hctshiyah l ala Sharh Hikmat al-
Ishraq, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1316/1898; al-Mooda' al-Ma'hd, Teheran,
lithographed edition, 1314/1896; Mafatihal-Ghaib, Teheran, lithographed edition; al-
Mashd'ir, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1315/1897; Sharh al-Hidayat al-Athiriyyah,
Teheran, lithographed edition, 1313/1895; Sharh Ilahiym al-Shifa 1 , Teheran, litho-
graphed edition, 1303/1885; Sharh Usui al-Kafi, Teheran, lithographed edition; al-
Shauxthid al-Eububiyyah, Teheran, lithographed edition, 1286/1869; Kasr Asnam
al-JahUiyyah, ed. M. T. Danish Pazhuh, University Press, Teheran, 1340 Solar;
Sih Asl, ed. S. H. Nasr, University Press, Teheran, 1340 Solar; Mulla Sadra
Commemoration Volume, University Press, Teheran, 1340 Solar; S. J. Sajjadi, The
Philosophical Vocabulary of Sadr al-Din Shirazi. University Press, Teheran, 1380/
1960; S.H.Nasr, "Mulla Sadra dar Hindustan," Rahnamayi Kitab, Vol. IV, Dai,
1340 Solar; Akbar S&irafi,' Tdrikh-i Folosifih-i Islam, Danish Press, Teheran, 1315
Solar; Muhammad Husain Tabataba'i, "Musahibih-i Ustad 'Allamih Tabafaba'i ba
Professor Henri Corbin dar Barih-i Shi'ah," Salanih-i Maktab-i Tashayyu', No. 2,
Qum, 1339 Solar; abu 'Abd Allah al-Zinjani, al-Filsuf al-Farsi al-Kabir Sadr
al-Din al- Shirazi, al-Mufid Press, Damascus, 1936; M. Horten, Das Philosophische
System des Schirazi, Strassburg, 1913.
Part 6. Political Thought
Chapter XLIX
IBN KHALDtJN
The consideration of ibn Khaldun's political philosophy within the context
provided by a work on the history of Muslim philosophy, and in a chapter
concluding the history of Muslim political philosophy in the classical period,
961
A History of Muslim Philosophy
must face and attempt to clarify the complex problem of the precise character
of the political aspect of ibn Khaldun's new science of culture, and its theo-
retical and practical implications when contrasted with the various philosophic
practical sciences and Muslim legal sciences that share the same subject-matter.
In this attempt, the investigator is faced with the dilemma that, although
ibn Khaldun shows intimate acquaintance with these philosophical and legal
disciplines and with the writings of his predecessors on them, he does not
present himself in his major work either as a philosopher or as a writer on
legal matters ; does not choose to continue either the Greek and Muslim tra-
dition of political philosophy or any of the traditional Muslim legal sciences ;
and does not make a direct or thematic contribution in the form of a treatise
on any of these disciplines. He considers his main contribution to be an almost
wholly new science based on natural philosophy yet advancing beyond tra-
ditional natural philosophy by using certain conclusions of natural science to
construct a complete science of culture.
The investigation of culture inevitably led ibn Khaldun to the investigation
of the phenomenon of government, which is both a constituent part and the
"form" (surah), i.e., the organizing principle, of culture. The third section
of Book One of the "History" is devoted to this subject, and its title indicates
the various problems which it investigates: "On States, Kingship, the Cali-
phate, and Sovereign Ranks; and the States Occurring in These— Containing
Fundamental [Propositions] and Supplementary [Inquiries]." 1 Since govern-
ment is the form of culture as a whole, we also find extensive discussions of
this subject in all the other sections of Book One, including the section on the
sciences. This treatment of political matters is not, however, an independent
discussion and is not based on premises of its own but forms an integral part
of the science of culture.
Ibn Khaldun himself distinguishes his new science, and his investigation
of political matters within the scope of this science, from the traditional
political science or political philosophy of his Greek and Muslim predecessors
and also from the Muslim legal sciences. After recapitulating the substance
of his own investigation of politics, an attempt will be made in this chapter
to understand how he characterizes his new endeavour and justifies his
departure from the well-established philosophical and legal traditions. We
shall find that what appears at first to be an effort simply to distinguish
between the science of culture and political philosophy and the legal sciences,
progressively takes the form of a critique of, first, certain propositions, and,
secondly, of the entire subject-matter of political philosophy and of dialectical
theology, though the critique of the latter discipline is less pronounced and
more implicit. In this connection, ibn Khaldun raises a number of problems
1 Q. I 278ff. Cf. Book 4, Part 4, Chapter XL VI for bibliographical information
about ibn Khaldun's works and other works cited in the footnotes. Complete
bibliographical information will be given in this chapter only for works not
abready cited.
Ibn Khaldun
crucial for understanding the character of both his own science of culture
and of the entire history of Muslim political philosophy and dialectical theo-
logy. In attempting to explore some of these problems, we have restricted
ourselves to the issues that are indispensable for a fuller understanding of
ibn Khaldun's position and have presented them in a perspective that seems
to us to serve this purpose best. In characterizing the political thought of his
predecessors, ibn Khaldun does not pretend to be an impartial historian; he
assumes the role of a severe critic. This criticism is not based on blind faith
or love for contention, but on certain theoretical and practical considerations.
In the section devoted to political authority and institutions, 2 ibn Khaldun
remains loyal to the specific character of his new science. He begins with,
and thereafter repeatedly recalls, the premises he had posited for the science
of culture as a whole. 3 The dominant theme of his discussion of political life
is the explanation of the natural causes, powers, properties, stages, and
accidents inherent in the properties of the human soul, and how they lead of
necessity to the formation of political life and subject it to certain natural
and necessary laws of human association. 4
Like culture as a whole, political life is considered by ibn Kh aldun to be
a generated natural being. The methods he follows in determining its character-
istics are, therefore, adopted from natural science in general, and from biology
in particular. 5 Genetically, he follows the development of political life through
its various stages: how it is generated, grows, reaches its maturity, sickens,
and dies. In biology, the efficient cause of this movement is taken to be the
soul and its temper (mizaj). In culture, ibn Khaldun considers the efficient
cause of the movement to be a specific property of the human soul, i.e.,
social solidarity ('asabiyyah) which is a combination of the natural feeling
for one's relatives and friends, and of the need for defence and survival. It
cements a group together, dictates the need for a ruler, leads to conflicts with
other groups, and generates the power of conquest leading to victory over
others ; its initial power determines the extent of this conquest ; and the fulfil-
ment of appetites and desires, finally, weakens it and leads to the dis-
integration of political power.*
This genetic method is supplemented by the analytical method through
which ibn Khaldun distinguishes and compares the various forms of political
power, and the institutional arrangements within each form. Apart from the
purely natural regime in which a tyrant or small bands or groups give free
2 Q.I, 278; II, 201.
3 Q. I, 278: 5-7, 337-38, 394:3, 415:5; II, 126.
4 Q. I, 247-48, 291 : 15-16, 293, 294: 16-18, 299-300, 309, 336-38, 342; II, 19:4-5,
65ff., 93ff., 106-07, 128.
5 Q. I, 299-300, 305-06, 309 ff.
6 Q.I, 291:15-16, 293, 294:16-18, 299:14, 331:1 2, 342; II, 93ff. 108ff.
963
A History of Muslim Philosophy
rein to their appetites, there are two major types of regimes: (a) rational
regimes in which the appetites are ordered by the agency of human reason
for the sake of a more peaceful and permanent enjoyment of worldly things,
and (b) regimes of divine Law in which prophet-legislators, through the power
of their souls to communicate with the "unseen" (explained in the sixth
premise), posit laws which order the affairs of men and the enjoyment of
both worldly things and things of the soul useful for man's welfare in the
world to come. This inquiry is supplemented with a description of the various
institutional arrangements and offices in both types. 7
Throughout this discussion, ibn Khaldun insists that his treatment of
political life is not to be confused with the treatment of political life in the
Islamic legal sciences which aim at determining the legal prescriptions to be
followed by adherents to the Islamic Law, with the sayings of popular wisdom
which do not explain the nature of political life, or with political science or
political philosophy which aims primarily at determining how man ought to
conduct himself to achieve happiness and perfection.
In summarizing the Third Book of the Laws, al-Farabi informs us that
Plato explained that all the nomoi are subject to generation and corruption
and regeneration, and that he explained the growth of cities, the develop-
ment of the arts, and the origins and development of governments. 8 In this
context, al-Farabi employs the two central terms which have come to be
associated with ibn Khaldun's new science, i.e., 'umran and 'asabiyyah* Since
al-Farabi indicates that generation and corruption are inherent in all the
nomoi and in all cities all the time (i.e., they occurred in the past, occur now,
and will occur in the future), he is also alluding to the fact that Muslim govern-
ments and laws are equally subject to these natural laws.
The context within which this and similar discussions occur, however,
indicates that, for the political philosophers, the explanation of the natural
origins and the generation and corruption of regimes is not an independent
inquiry but a subservient branch of the art of legislation and, ultimately, of
political science ; its aim is to provide the legislator with the necessary know-
ledge upon which to base his decisions in laying down such laws as are appro-
priate to the particular group for which he is legislating under particular
circumstances. In contrast, the immediate and apparent context within which
ibn Khaldun's inquiry into political affairs is pursued is not the art of legisla-
tion or political science, but the science of culture which he develops as an
independent science His major contribution consists in pursuing this inquiry
with relative freedom from the art of legislation and of political science or the
art of determining how men ought to live ; and in elaborating all the natural
■> Q.I, 342ff.;II 126ff.
8 Tathhis Naivamis Aflatun ("Compendium Legum Platonis"), ed. Franeiscus
Gabrieli ("Corpus Philosophorum Medii Aevi, Corpus Platonicum, Plato Arabus,'
Vol. Ill), London, The Warburg Institute, 1952, pp. 16-18.
» Ibid., pp. 17:4, 18:2 and 6, 24:10, 33.13,41:6.
Ibn Khaldun
properties and concomitants of political life necessitated by man's natural
constitution. Furthermore, he is the only Muslim thinker who has
shown, explicitly and in detail, that Muslim history and Muslim regimes are
indeed subject to these natural laws of generation and corruption, and,
therefore, has insisted that the proper understanding of Muslim history pre-
supposes the natural understanding of the essential properties of man and
human association in general.
In defending the legitimacy of his new inquiry into political matters, ibn
Khaldun does not attempt to present it as a new version of political philo-
sophy or as a substitute for it, but rather to explain the distinction between
the new inquiry and the established practical philosophic sciences. This
distinction is made on the ground of certain basic differences which ibn Khaldun
invokes at appropriate places in the course of his inquiry. The examination
of these differences will shed light on the fundamental character of both
Muslim political philosophy and ibn Khaldun's new science of culture.
Immediately after formulating the basic principles of the new science, 10
and asserting its relative independence and newness, ibn Khaldun sets out
to show that "it does not belong to the science of rhetoric, for the subject
of rhetoric is convincing speeches, useful in attracting the multitude toward
a certain opinion or turning them away from it." 11 "Nor does it belong to
the science of 'political government' [siyasat al'madanlyyah] , for political
government is the administration of the household ort he city as is obliga-
tory [bima yajib] according to the requirements of ethics and wisdom so that
the multitude be made to follow a course leading to the protection and
preservation of the [human] species. Thus, its subject differs from the subject
of these two arts which are perhaps similar to it." 12 Only after having stated
this difference does ibn Khaldun proceed to suggest that the new science
"is, as it were, newly discovered." This suggestion is offered reluctantly
on the ground that he could not find it in the works of the Greek wise men
available to him, a fact which seemed to him to be in need of some expla-
nation: "The wise men perhaps were concerned in this with the fruits [of
the sciences]; and the fruit of this [science] is, as you saw, in [the cor-
rection of historical] reports only. Even though its problems in themselves
and in their proper spheres are noble, its fruit is the rectification of
[historical] reports which are weak [ornot significant : da'lf]. That is why they
deserted it." 13
10 Q. I, 61; cf. above, Chap. XLVI.
11 Cf. Q. Ill, 322, where ibn Khaldun refers to the flowing prose used "in rhetorical
[speeches] and prayer, and encouraging and frightening the multitude," and also
324 where he indicates the political use of such rhetorical speeches.
« Q.I, 62:3-10.
13 Q.I, 63:5-8.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
it, and setting it apart, from rhetoric andloSi, * dlstin «*Wng
in showing that it does not b^^££T™ T ^ "" ^^
delimiting the subject-matter „f tl T , ■ , ta he does thro "g'>
ends or r!s„l ta J%£?7. £Z£ T^ ^ -H""** tU,
and governing it acco „£, to fc^toZS"f° , S! " *° the mUWtUde
direct fruit of the science of edte 7ZZZ i! frit " <>nd ™ d ° m - T "=
tnde or making it follow an ethi™ Z^ o™™""* the multi.
turn requires fhe k„„wTeJ£ tf Sat ^^7 Z ""* ° f "* ^ *
wisdom of the fegislator and the ^ and Sm^Tco^ "V™^ 1
tude), but simply the understanding oTthe „at™ .M °? ,"*
and human association or culture an unnW^tT u- fT ert,es ° f m »»
the specific aim of rectifyin^'rical renoT^* * ^ ^^ With
an art concerned with how ^ ™ht TZ I ""^f * "^^ h DOt
governed, or how the multitude Tto ,J ^ ^ ^t^ ^.^
into how man has actually lived in the past ZT.', i ^° mqnily
the modes of human association TnTl > ^ ienat i "^ «■<«« determining
oflife pursued in thediv3ul; n IS:Wwht„ "**'- l"" ™ yS
subject-matters and, consequeTtly to Zl , ?' "^^^ ° f their
accepting it. Ibn KhaldO^nlt. Tf k ° """"^ or ° b %>tion of
andLelary l^o^^ZT^ **? t ™ tUral
nature); and their concern with .ZT . 7 « ro " nded ,n tlle «"™ee of
Plato's and al.p 5 r«bi\Tre atm et „f th ^ "' T^ a8 e " denCed ta
their attachment to ZTZl^^' " "T ^ "*««« *>
new L^etd tnTt^a^rf , himSe,f * *«^*«g between the
new science of cultul and to £ rT\ to iU8Ufying the need f ° r "»
- ornate subjel^ o^ ^ ^^ ^"
966
Ibn Khaldun
observations about traditional political science which are not necessarily-
called for as far as his immediate task is concerned. At first sight, these observa-
tions seem to present traditional political science under unfavourable light,
to suggest certain fundamental theoretical disagreements between ibn Khaldun
and Muslim political philosophers, and to prove the superior character of the
new science as compared to the traditional political science. Yet ibn Khaldun's
own modest estimate of the "fruits" of the science of culture is a warning
against accepting these conclusions at their face value. In order to explore
his intention, we must first understand the issues involved.
The central issue which ibn Khaldun repeatedly invokes in this connection
is the proof of the "necessity" of prophecy, and of the prophetic religious
Law, adduced by Muslim political philosophers. Upon the first reference to
this issue, ibn Khaldun cites what is mentioned by wise men in their proof of
the necessity of prophecies, what is mentioned in the fundamentals of juris-
prudence ( Usui al-Fiqh) in proving the necessity of languages, and what the
jurists (fuqaha') mention "in the justification of legal prescriptions through
their purposes." 14 In all of these disciplines, the jurists attempt to present
a natural proof for the necessity of a legal or conventional prescription, and
they seem to argue as follows: men must co-operate in society, therefore
they necessarily need a ruler who must be a prophet; men by nature need
to express their intentions, therefore they necessarily need the easier method
of doing this, which must be a language; men must preserve their species
and their social life uncorrupted, therefore they must abstain from adultery,
murder, and injustice. The necessity of prophecy thus appears to be based
on the same kind of argument and, consequently, to have the same status, as
the necessity of language, and of the injunctions against adultery, murder,
and injustice. Now, all these have some basis in nature. But they cannot be
traced directly or exclusively to nature ; and they are not produced by nature
in a necessary manner. They are, rather, the product of human convention
and law, or of a divine Law. That they are not, strictly speaking, natural or
necessary, becomes evident when we consider the diversity of languages, and
differences and conflicts among the various legal arrangements {including
those claiming divine origin) in different communities. The mistake of these
jurists consists in beginning with the nature of man and society, showing
the need for some such conventions and laws, and concluding that this is
sufficient proof of the exclusively natural and necessary character of con-
ventions and laws.
While the proof of the "necessity" of prophecy shares in this general mis-
taken way of argumentation, it is in a class by itself, and we need to follow
ibn Khaldun's refutation of it more closely. According to him, the philosophers
begin with the demonstration of the necessity of a government and a ruler.
This demonstration he accepts as valid and adopts as the first premise of
1 Q. I, 63-64.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
his science. However, "The philosophers (faMsifah) make an addition to
this demonstration when attempting to establish prophecy by rational argu-
ment, and that it is a natural property of the human being. Thus they con-
firm this demonstration [i.e., the ^dispensability of the ruler] up to its con-
clusion and that humanity cannot escape being under restraining and reconcil-
ing rule (hukm wddi'). Then they say, after that, 'That rule comes to be by
a [divine or religious] Law {Shar') imposed by God and introduced by one
[member] of the human species distinguished from them [i.e., the rest] by
the special [properties] of His guidance with which God entrusts him in order
that submission to him and acceptance from him take place ; so that ruling
among them and on them be completed without disacknowledgment or [angry]
reproach.' This proposition by the philosophers (fyukama') is, as you see, not
demonstrable ; since existence and human life may become complete without
that [Law and prophet] by [virtue of] what the ruler imposes by himself or
by [virtue of] the [social] solidarity ('asabiyyah) by which he is enabled to
conquer them [i.e., his subjects] and make them follow his path. Thus, the
People of the Book and the followers of the prophets are few compared to
the Magians who have no [revealed] Book ; for they [the latter] form the majori-
ty of the inhabitants of the world. Despite that, they possessed States and
monuments in addition to [simply] having lived; and they still have these
to this epoch in the intemperate regions of the north and the south, in con-
trast to human life in confusion and without a restraining and reconciling
[ruler] at all; this is impossible. By this becomes plain to you their
mistake concerning the obligatory [character] of prophecies, and that it [this
obligation] is not rational; rather, it is apprehended by the Law, as is the
doctrine of the ancestors of the community." 15
On the surface ibn Khaldun's argument is extremely simple, if not naive.
The supposed demonstration of the philosophers is based on the minor premise
that every ruler must rule with a divine Law. 16 This is evidently false, since
a ruler can rule by virtue of royal authority alone, and even a simpleton
knows that there have been innumerable rulers without divine authority.
This simple fact could not have escaped the notice of the philosophers whom
ibn Khaldun calls "wise men," and the issue cannot be dismissed on this
level.
There are two possible philosophic approaches to the study of man and
society: the first, which is characteristic of ibn Khaldun's science of culture,
is through the natural sciences ; the second, which is the characteristic approach
of the Greek and Muslim political philosophers, is through a consideration
of the end of man. Since the end of man, his perfection or happiness, pre-
15 Q.I, 72:7-73:5.
16 Q. I, 345-46.
supposes the understanding of the place of man within the cosmos of which
he is a part, this latter approach comes after metaphysics or divine science
(Him ilahi) in the order of investigation. 17 The first approach is based exclu-
sively on natural science and does not admit any premises that cannot be
demonstrated therein. It can, therefore, be properly called a "natural" science
of politics. The second approach is based on metaphysics or the science of
divine things and can, therefore, be called meta-natural or "divine" politics. 18
The comprehensive works of ibn Sina, which ibn Khaldun specifically has
in mind in discussing this issue, present us with two features significant for
understanding ibn Khaldun's exposition. (1) They all include two discussions
of political matters, the first coming at the end of the natural sciences (in
the sections corresponding to Aristotle's Be. Anima), and the other at the end
of the divince science. 19 Ibn Sina's works thus point to the fact that both
"natural" and "divine" political sciences owe their origin to the philosophers.
Yet in studying ibn Sina's "natural" version of political science, we come to
realize the significant difference between him and ibn Khaldun: ibn Sina
restricts himself here to the natural foundations of man's political life and
does not proceed to develop a full-fledged science of society or politics on that
foundation alone. He seems thus to suggest that these natural foundations
are not sufficient for understanding the full scope of man's political life and
cannot offer the proper directives concerning how he is to conduct himself
as a political animal. Such an undertaking will have to wait till after the
completion of divine science; or, as ibn Khaldun explains, it needs "additional"
arguments which cannot be presented prior to the investigation of the world
17 Ihm' ol-'Ulum (La statistique des sciences), ed. Osraan Amin (2nd ed.,
Cairo, Dar al-Fikr al-'Arabi, 1949), pp. 102ff.
18 In al-Farabi's "Enumeration of the Sciences," political science (which includes
the art of jurisprudence and the art of dialectical theology) comes at the end
immediately following divine science. Following the same scheme, all of ibn Sina's
comprehensive philosophical works relegate political science to the very end to be
treated as an ancillary to divine science. This arrangement is based on the con-
sideration that the subject of divine science includes the study of "spiritual"
beings, and is, thus, in a position to correct the false opinions about them in the
city, and that, for ibn Sina in particular, the "branches" ffuru') of divine science
are concerned with the study of revelation, miracles, resurrection, and reward
and punishment; cf. al-Farabi, Ihsa\ pp. 99-101; ibn Sina, Aqsam cd-'Ulum al-
'Aqliyyah (The Parts of Rational Sciences) in Tis 1 RasaHl, Cairo, Ma|;ba'ah Hindiy-
yah, 1326/1908, pp. 112-16. A political science concerned with the opinions and
actions of a religious community must, therefore, follow the study of the principles
of these opinions and actions in divine science. Ibn Khaldun, who clearly saw the
close relation between divine science and the "divine" version of political philo-
sophy, adopts, as we shall indicate, an equally critical attitude towards both.
™ l Uyun, pp. 40-46, 59-60; ef. pp. 16-17; Isharat, pp. 119-37, 176-222; Najat,
pp. 157-93, 284, 38: "Nafs," gkifa\pp. 157-268, "Siyasah," Shifa' ("La sociologie
et la politique dans la philosophie d'Avicenne") ed. Mohammad Yusuf Musa
("Memorial Avicenne" I), Cairo, Institute Francais d'Archeologie Orientale, 1952,
pp. 8-27.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and of the place of man within it. (2) Further, in his "Parts of Rational Scien-
ces," ibn Sina specifies that the aim of the practical part of philosophy or
wisdom is not the attainment of certainty about existents, but "perhaps"
of opinions, and not opinions simply but opinions for the sake of realizing the
good. 20 In addition, that part of political philosophy which deals with political
governments studies all classes of governments, good and bad, those based
on kingship as well as those based on prophecy and divine Laws. 21 Although
political philosophy may favour the political government based on prophecy,
it transcends any particular class of political arrangements. These issues,
however, are not raised in the exposition of the "divine" version of political
philosophy in his comprehensive philosophic works ; instead, he purports here
to offer not a discussion of the total subject of political philosophy or the
various classes of opinions and action in all political regimes, but what appears
to be a rational justification, or the "obligatory" character, of a specific class
of political regimes, i.e., that which is originated by a prophet-legislator. The
final four chapters of the Shifd', for instance, indicate that ibn Sina would
treat the proof of prophecy, and the prophet's call to God and the return to
Him ; prayers and their utility in this world and the next ; the foundation
of the city and the household, and legal prescriptions relating to them (discussed
within the framework of prophetic legislation) ; and successors to the Prophet
(Caliphate and Imamate), and other matters relating to governments and
ethics. 22 The whole discussion is, thus, centred around prophecy and presupposes
its "obligator}'" character.
Ibn Khaldun's first and foremost observation on the total scope of the
subject-matter of "divine" political science is that it is not natural (tablH)
or necessary (daruri), by which he means the same thing and it is fundamentally
this : Considering the natural constitution of man as a political animal, we do
not find that revelation, divine Laws, and divine governments, and the con-
cern with resurrection and reward and punishment, to be necessary conditions
for his survival, for the formation of society, and for the continued existence .
of both. Religion does not belong to those requirements that form the indis-
pensable minimum for the existence and preservation of society; it is not
the sufficient condition, nor even one of the sufficient conditions, required
for social life in order that it may exist and continue. Man's natural constitu-
tion and the character of society do not make it absolutely mandatory
upon man to be a member of a religious community and to obey the prescrip-
tions of a divine Law. 23 Given human nature, prophecy and revelation are
20 Aqsam al-'Ulum, p. 105.
21 Ibid., pp. 107-08. This philosophic discussion of the prophetic regime, according
to ibn Sina, is contained in Plato's works on the nomoi.
22 "Siyasah," Shifd', pp. 8ff.
23 For a more detailed discussion of this problem, cf. Leo Strauss, "The Law
of Reason in the Kuzari" in Persecution and the Art of Writing, Glencoe, Illinois,
Free Press, 1952, pp. 95-141, and Natural Right and History, Chicago, the Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 1953, pp. 156-64.
970
Ibn Khaldun
possible phenomena. Supposing that a prophet does come and that he possesses,
in addition, the ability to rule, to command obedience, and to legislate, there
will come to exist a divine Law. And given certain climatic and other condi-
tions, his Law may be followed and preserved. To be obeyed and preserved,
this Law must include certain opinions, such as that prophecy is necessary.
These opinions are legally "obligatory" or binding upon the followers of that
Law; the source of this obligation is not human nature and the nature of
society, or unaided human reason, but a specific divine revelation and a
specific divine Law. Thus, what induces ibn Khaldun to reject the natural
and necessary character of religion and divine Laws, and, consequently, of
the whole subject-matter of "divine" political science, is not merely that
divine government, like man-made language, and injunctions against adultery,
murder, and injustice, is conventional or legal in character. 24 For, despite
their conventional character, it could be shown that, unlike divine govern-
ment, all the rest are necessary conditions for the existence and preservation
of any society, 25 and that the authority of unaided human reason is sufficient
to prove that. (Ibn Khaldun says, for instance, that the authority of human
reason is "sufficient" for "forbidding injustice." 26 ) Divine government is not
only a legal convention; it does not even belong to those legal conventional
arrangements that form the indispensable minimum required for the existence
and preservation of society and which can be said, therefore, to be natural
and necessary conventions.
Ibn Khaldun's second major observation is that the premises and, con-
sequently, the conclusions of "divine" political science are not rationally
demonstrable (burhani), i.e., unaided human reason cannot achieve certainty
concerning such subjects as the obligatory character of divine revelation and
the divine Law ; the necessity of believing in the opinions about God, resurrec-
tion, and reward and punishment; or the necessity of performing the actions
prescribed in a divine Law, such as worship. The authority for the obligatory
character of these opinions and actions is the divine Law itself. Divine Laws,
however, command and do not demonstrate (at least not rationally) the
necessity of holding the opinions and of performing the actions commanded.
So far as human reason is concerned, these commands remain undemonstrated,
i.e., they continue to hold the status of belief or opinions. Whether these
opinions are true or false, generally accepted or not, practically good and
useful or bad and harmful, or whether they are preferable or objectionable,
is not here the issue; rather, it is that the obligation (set up by those who
pretend to have shown that these opinions are rationally obligatory) does
not impose itself on human reason. The only obligation that seems to be
convincing is the legal obligation set up by divine Laws. Unlike demonstrated
24 Cf. above, pp. 966-67.
25 Not that a particular language, etc., is necessary, but that some language
s necessary.
86 Q.I, 346:4-5.
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
conclusions, undemonstrated opinions do not by themselves compel the assent
of human reason; in order to be accepted, they need an additional force,
which in this case is provided by divine Laws.
We are now in a better position to understand the reason why ibn Khaldun
distinguishes at the outset between his new science of culture, on the one
hand, and the practical philosophic sciences, the legal sciences, and popular
wisdom, on the other; and why, in discussing the six premises of the new
science, he distinguishes between what can be demonstrated and what cannot
be demonstrated within the science of nature. Only in the science of nature
are we able to arrive at demonstrated conclusions about what is natural and
necessary for man and society. The conclusions of all these other sciences are
undemonstrated opinions. This is also the case with the conclusions of the
divine science or the science of divine beings. The fact that "divine" political
science is based on premises derived from divine science deprives all of its
conclusions of their demonstrable character. This is also the reason why ibn
Khaldun mentions rhetoric as the first of the practical philosophic sciences.
Since the practical sciences deal with opinions, and opinions do not compel
assent immediately, an art is needed which is capable of convincing men to
accept certain opinions and to reject others. This is precisely the function of
rhetoric. In the practical sciences, the philosophers do not follow the method
of demonstration ; they are not, strictly speaking, philosophers but rhetoricians. 27
Ibn Khaldun's critique of "divine" political science presents a curious
paradox : it defends religion against the mistakes of theologians and it defends
philosophy against the mistakes of philosophers. His defence of religion con-
sists in establishing revelation and divine Laws as the exclusive source for
beliefs in the substance of the doctrines relative to prophecy and divine govern-
ment ; yet he objects to every kind of theology or the effort to prove these doc-
trines rationally. His defence of philosophy consists in the bold assertion that,
in as far as reason is concerned, the political doctrines purporting to support
religion cannot claim a status higher than that of undemonstrated opinions,
and he exposes the philosophers who claimed that they were presenting pro-
perly a philosophical support or defence of religious doctrines, or had
succeeded in turning philosophy into a rational theology. From this it appears
that ibn Khaldun's critique is not directed against philosophy, but against
theology; not against philosophers as philosophers, but against philosophers
in their role as theologians, dialecticians, and rhetoricians.
This critique is based on the distinction between religion or, more specifically,
religious beliefs and practices based on a particular revelation and divine Law,
and philosophy or, more specifically, the body of scientifically demonstrated
' Cf. above, p. 965; Q. Ill, 73.
Ibn Khaldun
conclusions based on rational inquiry. It is characteristic of ibn Khaldun
that he upholds the legitimacy of both religious knowledge and scientific
philosophic knowledge in their proper spheres, and contests the theoretical
legitimacy of all disciplines that occupy an ambivalent position between the
two and profess to demonstrate their agreement. Such disciplines, which
according to him belong to sophistry and rhetoric rather than either to religion
or scientific philosophy, are primarily the dialectical theology of the Mutakal-
limun and the political theology of the philosophers.
Religiously, ibn Khaldun identifies himself with the early Muslims or the
pious ancestors who rejected all attempts at rational justification of religious
beliefs and practices as unnecessary, if not dangerous, "innovations." But
since these pious ancestors were innocent of the philosophic sciences, they
could not be considered his true precursors. Philosophically, he supports his
position, not only on the basis of the requirements of scientific demonstration,
but by invoking the authority of the philosophers who followed the method
of verification (mufyaqqiqun) . He thus shows a predilection for pure religion
and pure philosophy over against any kind of theology which is necessarily
a confused mixture of both.
It is noteworthy that in the crucial passage where ibn Khaldun criticizes
the divine science and the political theology of the philosophers, he mentions
al-Farabi and ibn Sina but not ibn Rushd- 28 Of Muslim philosophers, it was
precisely ibn Rushd who (like ibn Khaldun) was a recognized religious judge
(qddi) and a philosopher who criticized al-Farabi and ibn Sina for imitating
the dialectical theologians, and who wrote the most celebrated treatise on
religion and philosophy the main theme of which is the defence of the
legitimacy of religion and philosophy in their proper spheres, and which is a
devastating attack upon the combination of religion and philosophy in the
form of theology. 29 It is not possible here to enter into the historical and
doctrinal developments that led to ibn Rushd's new attitude towards theology.
For our immediate purpose we need only note that in this decisive respect
ibn Khaldun is following in the footsteps of one of his most illustrious Muslim
predecessors. Therefore, his position could not be construed to be anti-
philosophic or based on any lack of understanding of the intentions of
al-Farabi and ibn Sina. To understand his specific reasons for criticizing
them, we must now analyse his treatment of Muslim dialectical theology
(Kalam), and of the divine science and political theology of the "philo-
sophers."
"Dialectical theology," says ibn Khaldun. "involves arguing for the beliefs
of faith with rational proofs, and answering the innovators who deviate in
[their] beliefs from the ways of the ancestors and the followers of orthodoxy." 30
« Q. Ill, 213.
» Fasl cd-Maqal (Traits decisif), ed. L. Gauthier, 3rd ed., Alger, Editions
Carbonel, 1948, pp. 20ff.
30 Q.III,27:l-3.
973
A History of Muslim Philosophy
The beliefs of faith consist of such things as the attributes of God, the truth
of revelation and prophecy, the angels, the spirits, the jinn, resurrection,
paradise, hell, etc. Unlike things that have rationally ascertainable natural
causes, these are ambiguous matters, the reality of which reason cannot
ascertain. Therefore, it must be left to the divinely-ordained legislator (the
Prophet) to determine them and teach them. The general run of believers,
like the deaf and the blind, must accept the authority of their fathers and
teachers, and since they cannot establish the truth of these matters, they
must follow the generally accepted opinions about them, based on the command
of their prophet-legislator. 31 More important, however, is the fact that these
beliefs are not theoretical assertions but part of a way of life within a system
of divine government intended for the happiness of the believer. Their pur-
pose is not mere knowledge or belief or assent or faith. Perfection, according
to the legislator, consists of "perfect faith" or the habit firmly rooted through
practical repetitive action (worship, obedience, and submissiveness), until
believers possess the established attribute moulding their souls. Beliefs are
not primarily intended to be known, but to "be possessed"; their purpose
is not knowledge, but practical utility ; their end is not theoretical perfection,
but the happiness promised by the legislator. 32
The proper function of dialectical theology is to defend beliefs with rational
arguments, but since this is not necessary for faith, it is only useful when
these beliefs are endangered by innovators who attack them by the use of
rational arguments. This happened in Muslim history with the rise of the
Mu'tazilites, the Shi'ites, and other innovators. At that time, dialectical
theology had a useful function to perform. Once innovators are suppressed
(rational argument being one of the tools used in this fight), 33 dialectical
theology has no further reason to exist; indeed it can be harmful, since it
gives the impression that rational arguments are somehow necessary for
accepting beliefs. This is false both because (except in the case of rational
attacks upon them) beliefs do not need rational support and because the
rational support offered by dialectical theology is only dialectical, sophistical,
or rhetorical (i.e., based on common opinions); it has no scientific value. 34
While discussing the emergency of dangerous innovations, ibn Khaldun
notices a certain identity of origin and a certain parallelism between the
opinions of the innovators (the Mu'tazilites and the Shi'ites) and the writings
and opinions of the philosophers "which are in general at variance with the
beliefs of the divine Law." 35 He indicates that innovators in Islam studied
the works of the philosophers. But it seems also that the philosophers in turn
took notice (e.g., in their rational proof of the obligation of having successors
31 Q. Ill, 29-30.
32 Q. Ill, 31-35.
33 Al-Farabi, Ihsa', pp. 108-13.
34 Q. Ill, 40-42,*45-49.
35 Q. Ill, 40, cf. also 41.
Ibn Khaldun
or Caliphs to the Prophet) 38 of the opinions of the innovators or of the Mu'ta-
zilite and Shi'ite theologians, and presented identical or similar opinions ; or
that philosophers presented themselves to the Muslim community in the guise
of Muslim theologians purporting to give a rational support for certain Muslim
beliefs, and more specifically of those beliefs, held by the heterodox minorities,
which were closer to their own views. Be this as it may, ibn Khaldun was
also aware of the radical difference between the content and the ultimate
intentions of the views of the philosophers and those of theologians of all
shades. That is why he devotes special chapters to the exposition of divine
science and of the philosophy centred around this divine science.
In contradistinction to all dialectical theologians, philosophers suppose
that "all" existence can be apprehended by "mental contemplation and
rational syllogisms." 37 It thus appears that they include all "spiritual" beings
in their contemplation; hence, they purport to give (in divine science) a
rational, syllogistic knowledge of God, the soul, resurrection, etc., or of the
religious beliefs revealed and commanded by the prophet-legislators. Unlike
dialectical theologians, however, philosophers do not begin with religious
beliefs as revealed by the prophets and attempt to elucidate them or support
them rationally ; their position is that reason can know these matters indepen-
dently of revelation. Being philosophers, they also believe that the rational
syllogistic knowledge of these matters is superior to divine revelation and,
therefore, must be made the final judge of the correctness of revelation, or
that "the rectification of the beliefs of faith is through contemplation, not
through tradition [hearing: sam 1 ], for they [i.e., the beliefs] belong to the
apprehensions of the intellect." 38
But philosophy does not content itself with presenting theoretical know-
ledge as a superior alternative to religious belief; philosophy is also a way
of life, and the philosophers contend that true happiness consists of complete
theoretical knowledge, or "the apprehension of all existents . . . through this
contemplation and those demonstrations," together with the improvement of
the soul and the acquisition of the virtues (all of which can be known and
established by the sole agency of reason). In contrast to the religious way
of life and the happiness promised by the prophet-legislators, this philosophic
way of life and the happiness of the philosopher "is possible for the human being
even if no divine Law comes down." For the lovers of wisdom, the blessed
life means theoretical knowledge and living according to the dictates of reason,
and eternal suffering means ignorance. 39
36 Q. I, 345-46.
37 Q, III, 210:2-5, 211:15-17.
38 Q. Ill, 210:5-6. Here we see another similarity between the philosophers
and the innovating theologians (the Mu'tazilites): the latter sought to "under-
stand" and "interpret" religious beliefs through reason.
39 Q. Ill, 210:7-8, 211-12.
975
A History of Muslim Philosophy
In presenting the content of their theoretical knowledge and of their way
of life, however, philosophers have committed grave errors, not only from
the more apparent standpoint of religion, but also from the standpoint of
philosophy itself. Philosophy says that scientific knowledge has to conform
to certain conditions and that scientific demonstration is possible only within
the limited range of what can be humanly experienced and known. Yet philo-
sophers in general, and al-Farabi and ibn Sina in particular, seem to speak
about all sorts of "spiritual" matters: the One, the source of all beings; the
emanation of beings ; the states of the soul after departing from the body, its
return to the source, joining the active intellect, and resurrection. Further,
they present these matters in a manner suggesting that they are the philo-
sophical parallels to, or the true meaning of, religious beliefs, and even "that
the joy resulting from this apprehension is identical with the happiness pro-
mised [by the Prophet-legislator]." 40 Yet their great master, Plato, had said:
"As to divine (things), no certainty can be realized concerning them; rather,
they are spoken of in accordance with what is most fitting and proper" — he
means "opinion." 41 Since Plato was indeed the great master of al-Farabi and
ibn Sina in their exposition of divine matters, and the Timaeus** and the
Laws were their models, we are faced again with the question why the philo-
sophers, including Plato, should find it necessary or useful to speak pro-
fusely concerning matters of which one cannot achieve certainty ; why, having
done this, al-Farabi and ibn Sina did not indicate clearly that they were only
giving the most fitting and proper "opinions" about these matters; and why,
finally, they gave the impression that these opinions were the equivalents
or the fitting interpretations of religious beliefs — in short, why they pre-
sented fitting opinions in the guise of demonstrated conclusions on religious
beliefs. The exploration of this theme is an indispensable prerequisite for
a sound understanding of Muslim political philosophy. For the present, we
shall restrict ourselves to the following observations with the intention of
clarifying ibn Khaldun's position.
In his section on "divine science" ('Urn ilahi) in the "Enumeration of the
Sciences," al-Farabi divides this science into three parts: the first two examine
existents as existents, and the principles of the demonstrations of particular
theoretical sciences (logic, natural science, and mathematics), respectively.
The third part examines incorporeal existents, their number, order, and pro-
gression to the most perfect One; explains the attributes of this last and
perfect incorporeal existent; explains "that this which has these attributes
is the one which must be believed to be God"; makes known the descending
order of existents beginning with Him ; explains that the order of existents
involves no injustice or irregularity; and finally "sets out to refute corrupt
40 Q. Ill, 121, 213-18.
41 Q. Ill, 215:12-13.
42 The quotation from Plato apparently refers to Timaeus 28 C; cf. Rosenthal's
translation of Q, Vol. Ill, p. 252, n. 1029.
976
Ibn Khaldun
opinions" about God. 43 The relation between political science, treated by
him in the following chapter, and this last function of divine science is
not immediately clear, although the inclusion of dialectical theology (Kaldm)
as part of political science leaves no doubt as to the political importance of
the opinions of the citizens concerning incorporeal existents. In his strictly
political writings, on the other hand, he does set up a detailed theology for
the inhabitants of the city. 44 But here he does not speak about the relation
between this theology and the examinations conducted in divine science. We
conclude that al-Farabi leaves the problem of the relation between divine
science and political theology set up for the inhabitants of the city ambi-
guous, at least in his more public writings.
At first sight, ibn Sina appears to have followed a different course. In all
of his works that deal with the whole subject-matter of philosophy, he
presents the conclusions arrived at in divine science as making "obligatory" the
existence of the prophets, the legislation of divine Laws, and even the contents
of the beliefs and practices legislated in these Laws. 45 It is true, as ibn Khaldun
observes, that ibn Sina begins his second version of political science with a
recapitulation of the conclusions arrived at in the first (natural) version of
political science and seems to be building the "obligatory" character of pro-
phecy and divine Laws upon that natural basis; but ibn Khaldun correctly
notes that the "proof" of the obligatory character of prophecy and divine
Laws is not based on the nature of man as explained in De Anima, but
on the additional examinations conducted thereafter in divine science.
Ibn Sina's presentation of his political theology is indeed based on rational
considerations, but not on the rational consideration of the nature of man
as in De Anima; rather, it is based on the attributes of "the First Cause and
the angels." Being what divine science has presented the First Cause and
the angels to be, it is obligatory that they should send prophets and divine
Laws. 46 Since divine science is a rational science, the obligation set up here
seems to be rational, not legal; God and the angels are not bound by Laws
but by their very nature. Thus, ibn Khaldun is again justified in interpreting
this rational obligation to mean natural necessity, and in wondering why God
and the angels do not uniformly act in accordance with what is purported
to be their very nature, why they have not fulfilled their obligation to the
overwhelming majority of mankind, and why only on rare occasions have
there been prophets and divine Laws.
Ibn Sina seems indeed to argue in the context that the realization of pro-
phecy is necessary as a preparation for the existence of the "good order"
43 Ihsa\ pp. 99-101.
44 Cf.*, e.g., Ara' AM al-Madlnat al-FOdHah ("Der Musterstaat"), ed.Fr.Dieterici,
Leiden, E. J. Brill, 1895, pp. 5ff.
45 "Siyasah," Shifa\ pp. 12ff. Consider the frequent repetition of wa-yajibu
(and it is obligarory) throughout the text.
4 « Ibid., p. 9:8 and passim.
977
A History of Muslim Philosophy
or of man's possible perfection, a perfection which he assumes to have become
evident as the proper end of man in divine science, but this raises the further
question whether prophecy and divine Laws, as they are known to exist,
are preparations for this type of perfection. We are, thus, forced to note that
despite the apparent clarity of his presentation of the relation between his
divine science and his political theology, ibn Sina leaves many questions un-
answered, or that his presentation is as ambiguous as that of al-Farabi. There
is, thus, ample justification for ibn Khaldun's criticism. Following Plato, he
explains that these ambiguities follow from the fact that in divine science
itself the philosophers have not attained, or at least have not presented, certain
knowledge, but only fair and fitting opinions. Therefore, their political theology
has the same character.
Ibn Khaldun raises this issue in the most acute and critical fashion; he
reveals that the philosophers, in presenting fair opinions and undemonstrated
conclusions concerning the way to theoretical perfection and happiness, could
only defend them by means of dialectical and rhetorical arguments; and,
though beginning with the opposite extreme of the starting-point of the
dialectical theologians, they do in fact assume the same role as the dialectical
theologians when presenting and defending these opinions. In taking his
bearings on these matters, ibn Khaldun distinguishes between philosophy pro-
perly so-called, i.e., the philosophic sciences which do in fact pursue the
method of demonstration and about the conclusions of which, when properly
arrived at, there can be no doubt, and philosophic theology (the greater por-
tion of divine science) and political theology (or "divine" political science)
which are in fact the philosophic versions of dialectical theology (Kalam). ■
He accepts the former (i.e., logic, natural science, mathematics), while rejecting
the latter."
Ibn Khaldun's theoretical reason for this rejection is justified but cannot
be considered sufficient. For, granting that ultimately the theology and
divine political science of the philosophers are in fact likely images and opinions
presented in the guise of rational beliefs, it remains to be shown that these
images and opinions are not only contrary but in fact inferior to the religious
beliefs of the community in which they were being propagated. From the
standpoint of demonstrative science, religious beliefs and philosophic or rational
opinions enjoy the same status — they are all opinions. The quotation from
Plato, however, indicates that opinions are not all alike: they can be
distinguished as being more or less fitting or proper. The philosophers hold,
in effect, that their rational opinions are more fitting or proper than religious
beliefs, and that their way of life, their virtues, and their happiness are more
truly such than the way of life, the virtues, and the happiness, pursued on
the basis of divine Laws. Ibn Khaldun is silent on this subject; he does not
attempt a direct refutation of this contention.
' Q. Ill, 212-20.
Ibn Khaldun
Instead, he explains that the philosophic way of life contradicts the religious
way of life which is based on faith and obedience to the commands of a
prophet-legislator; that the content of the "promised" happiness is radically
different from the content of the happiness pursued by the philosopher; and
that the attempt to equate or harmonize the two is an impossible task
and one which is fraught with danger for the religious community — it breaks
the protective wall around it, leads to doubts and scepticism about the beliefs
of faith, and turns the faithful away from the tasks appointed for them by
their prophet-legislator. The philosophers were not justified in preaching their
opinions to the Islamic community. Whatever their intention about reforming
the beliefs of the Islamic community might have been, they had only sown
confusion in the minds of the faithful, and led to the emergence of mistaken
notions about the distinct purposes of religion and of philosophy. Their own
way of life and their own happiness are of no concern to the religious com-
munity; and since they assert they can pursue this way of life and attain
happiness regardless of the existence of divine Laws and of a religious
community, they had no compelling reason to sow the seeds of confusion and
dissension within the religious community and endanger its peace.
Political life, as practised in all human communities, has to take into
account the nature of all men, and should be directed to the common good
of the multitude. This requires a ruler and a law based on the rational under-
standing of their common needs and interests in this world, or a divine Law
based on their common good in this world and the next. But in every case,
it is mandatory that the ruler and the law should set up opinions and actions in
the form of commands to be obeyed without qualification. The philosophic life,
however, transcends all established laws. The real "meaning" of political
science, "according to the wise men" themselves, is to lead a way of life in
which "they dispense with rulers altogether"; their "virtuous city" is not an
association of men subject to commands serving their common interest, and
they talk about it as a supposed or hypothetical city whose realization is
highly improbable. 48 The philosophic life is then radically different from the
ordinary polititcal life of the citizens. It requires rare natures and rarely
accomplished arts. The philosopher is essentially a solitary being, and the
best he can hope for are few kindred spirits within a vast majority of men
leading different ways of life and pursuing different ends. Since he needs to
live in a political community, ibn Khaldun offers him this opportunity, but
within clearly defined limits : he is not to interfere in the political life of the
community in his capacity as a philosopher, not to attempt to reform the
opinions of this community, not to communicate his opinions or propagate
his way of life among the multitude, and he is to relinquish his role as a
theologian and as a divine politician. He should restrict himself publicly to
practising the demonstrative sciences (logic, natural science, mathematics)
8 Q. II, 127.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and the useful arts (e.g., medicine, music, and jurisprudence). But, above
all, he should, like ibn Khaldun, uphold in no uncertain terms the Law of
his community and obey it. The philosopher must present himself to his
community in the guise of an ordinary citizen.
For certain thinkers, polemic is a method of examination and investigation,
a way of entering into a dialogue with their predecessors, and a means of
uncovering what lies behind or beyond the garb with which their predecessors
chose to clothe their thought or the manner in which they expressed it. When,
in addition, this polemic is presented to the reader to draw his attention to
the theoretical difficulties encountered by the author and his proposed direc-
tion for finding a solution, and to an audience which the author intends to
convince to accept or reject certain opinions or a course of action, the polemic
necessarily gains a formal complexity difficult to comprehend without a
sustained attention to the diverse, and perhaps conflicting, purposes which
it is designed to serve. Ibn Khaldun's polemic against ibn Sina is an instructive
example.
Muslim philosophers, dialectical theologians, and mystics, like the jurists,
the pious leaders of the community, and the common run of Muslims, seem
to accept the superior character of the opinions and actions legislated by
prophets in general and their own Prophet in particular. The unsophisticated
Muslim believes in the opinions of the Prophet and performs the actions
commanded by him because of his faith in their divine origin, his expectation
of "rewards, and his fear of punishment in the world to come; the pious
leaders of the community defend and promote, by exhortation, example, and
threat of punishment, communal obedience and devotion to the beliefs and the
way of life of their community; the jurists formulate and elaborate the
prescriptions of the Law of their community ; the mystics devote themselves
to practical exercises designed to facilitate the institution of the verities beyond
the beliefs and legal prescriptions designed for the common run of Muslims;
the dialectical theologians protect the beliefs and the ways of life of their
community against rational doubts and attacks; and the philosophers attempt
to present an additional rational ground for the coming of the prophet and
the setting up of the opinions and actions he commands. Ibn Khaldun, too,
presents himself as the defender of Muslim beliefs and the Muslim way of
life. But, instead of choosing to join the apparent consensus of all the parts of
the community, or to re-establish such a consensus where it is lacking through
harmonizing apparently conflicting views, he labours to make implicit conflicts
explicit, to show that the apparent consensus conceals some fundamental
differences, and to intensify these conflicts and differences by a show of
vigorous partisanship. He is the partisan fighting for the simple, unsophisticated
beliefs and way of life of the common run of Muslims, and for the undiluted,
980
Ibn Khaldun
unexplained, and unsupported faith, against the useless and dangerous efforts
of mystics, dialectical theologians, and philosophers, to defend, explain, and
support Islam. What were the fruits of the victory, so intensely coveted by him ?
On the scientific and theoretical plane his immediate aim is to disentangle
the confusion between dialectical theology, mysticism, and philosophy. This
confusion or mixture (khalt). as we learn from his account, reigned in these
disciplines in his time ; and those primarily responsible for it were the "modern"
school of dialectical theology and the later extreme rational mystics. 49 This
objective is achieved through the reassertion of the legal character of dialectical
theology and mysticism. Both must accept the beliefs and the way of life of
the community as unquestionable basic axioms; they should make no preten-
sion to extra-legal or properly rational knowledge of the nature of things:
dialectical theology is to restrict itself to the defence of the beliefs and prac-
tices of the community when these are questioned; and mystics should keep
their supposedly intuitive achievements to themselves. Since this confusion
has been harmful to philosophy (it was in danger of losing its distinctive
character and of becoming a tool of dialectical theology and mystical exercises),
philosophers should not contribute to it by presenting themselves to non-
philosophers in the guise of dialectical theologians and mystics, as ibn Sina
had done: philosophy is to exercise greater circumspection.
What induced the philosophers to present a rational support for prophecy
and divine Laws was no doubt the realization that a community living in
accordance with such Laws is superior to other communities — to communities
without God or gods, without concern for the welfare of the soul, and with-
out hope of a life to come. This has a demonstrative rational foundation (it
is shown in the science of nature that the soul is higher than the body), and
it is at the basis of ibn Khaldun's division of regimes into "rational regimes"
and "regimes of Law." But to say that the soul is higher than the body,
that prophecy is possible, and that a regime of divine Law is higher than a
regime without a divine Law; and to say that prophecy and prophetic Laws
are obligatory, or that reason can prove or support the commands, the beliefs,
and the virtues, set up by a legislator — these are two radically different things:
the former set of propositions has solid support in the investigation of the
nature of man and society; the latter has no such support.
A strictly natural, rational, and demonstrative approach to man and
society is then faced with the dilemma that, while it can attain certainty
about the necessity of society, the need for a ruler, and the preservation
of peace through a minimal practice of justice, it can attain no such certainty
about morality, virtues, or rules of conduct. Morality and virtues of
character are not, strictly speaking, natural or necessary; they have no
natural basis, no ground in nature. There is not a single universally valid
rule of conduct. Rational morality has no secure foundation or justification
1 Q. Ill, 121-24.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
in nature, and rational moral laws are not essential to man's nature or to
the nature of society. 50 There can, consequently, be no theoretical science of
ethics or politics except in the extremely limited sense developed by ibn
Khaldun in his science of culture. But although not simply natural, rational,
and universal, morality, virtues, and general rules of conduct are not
simply against nature. Society, to flourish and to be preserved, requires the
common pursuit of practical ends, and these require in turn a morality and
virtues readily accepted and commonly agreed upon by all, the majority
or the better part of society. This is not the morality of the philosopher. The
philosopher sees human perfection in theoretical knowledge. Theoretical
activity has its own immediate reward. The rewards of the practice of
moral virtues, in contrast, are neither evident nor immediate. They must be
based on less evident rewards, such as glory or honour, or future rewards,
such as the happiness promised to the just and the virtuous in the world
to come.
The philosophic study of ethics and politics, if it is intended to go beyond
the perfection and the happiness reserved for the philosopher and possible
only through the philosophic way of life or the life of theoretical activity,
has to assume the character of a practical discipline and to have as its object
the generally acceptable opinions about goodness and happiness, e.g., that
moderation is good, that the pleasures of the soul are superior to the pleasures
of the body, or that the future rewards of virtue are preferable to the immediate
rewards of vice. The aim of such a practical philosophy, however, is not
knowledge, but action, i.e., the practical pursuit and realization of the good.
Yet philosophy, since it does not rule in cities, lacks the practical implementa-
tion of what it considers fair and fitting ; therefore, the need for a ruler, a
legislator, a law, and a tradition as instruments for the execution of moral
duties and obligations. It is thus not philosophy, but the legislator, the legal
prescriptions, and the embodiment of the law in the traditional way of life
of the community that are the efficient cause which forces the citizens to
lead a virtuous way of life. The law, and not practical philosophy or reason,
is what redeems that lack of ground or necessity in nature: it supplies the
justification, the obligation, and the authority that compel the citizens to
hold fast to fair and fitting opinions entailing the renunciation of their natural
and compelling desires which opinion alone is unable to achieve. Divine Laws
revealed to prophet-legislators have the additional force of being based on
the belief in their divine origin, in the overpowering will of God, and in the
certainty of the rewards and punishments in the world to come ; they are thus
50 Since the attack of al-Ghazali and ibn Rushd on ibn Sina, the latter's star
declined, especially in western Islam. To attack ibn Sina was fashionable, not
only in theological, but in philosophical circles as well. The significance of ibn
Khaldun's attack, however, consists in uncovering those fundamental, bitter, and
practically dangerous philosophical truths which philosophers before him, pre-
cisely because they identified themselves with the philosophers, could not utter.
the most efficient laws and offer the most compelling ground for accepting
as valid what cannot be demonstrated by nature and reason.
The attempt to offer a natural and rational explanation of the beliefs
embodied in these Laws, as practised by dialectical theology, mysticism, and
philosophy, is unwise and dangerous. It may, in certain cases, strengthen
the faith of the believers in the commands of a divine Law, but it may also
weaken that faith by bringing to light certain discrepancies between these
commands and what is rationally most fitting and proper. Since, ultimately,
there is no naturally or rationally demonstrative and compelling ground for
these commands, the multitude will be made aware of this fact and this will
lead to the loss of unquestioned faith in them; and since the multitude are
incapable of knowing or pursuing the human perfection attainable by
theoretical activity, they will pursue sham and pseudo-scientific activities: the
citizens will lose their civic or religious virtues without finding the happiness
reserved for the true philosopher.
Ibn Khaldun's theoretical consideration of the nature of man and society
thus results in a practical teaching aimed at the protection of the Muslim
religious community and its divine Law against the confusion and disruption
resulting from the vulgarization of philosophy. This practical teaching is
founded on the consideration of the respective character of rational morality
and the Law, but in recommending it to the Muslims of his time, ibn Khaldun
supports it by the more acceptable authority of the Prophet, the pious an-
cestors, and the consensus of the leaders of the community, i.e., he presents
it as a legal injunction. Whatever the theoretical status of his critique of the
social role of philosophy may be, his practical recommendation to the faithful
must be obeyed because of its legal character.
Ibn Khaldun did not consider the critical issue for the Muslim community
of his time to be the rational justification or support of its divine Law. Indeed,
he thought that this issue was a luxury which his community could not afford
because it was faced with problems that involved its very existence. Long
periods of cultural decline and disintegration were threatening to dissolve the
fabric of society. What the community and its leaders needed most was
clarity concerning the elementary and natural foundations of human associa-
tion or culture and the understanding of the natural and necessary conditions
without which no society can exist at all. Muslims had for centuries lived as
members of a religious community under the aegis of the divine Law until
they came to forget other forms of social life and the fact that religion
and the Law cannot continue to exist except when based on a solid foundation
of social solidarity, royal authority, and other indispensable natural conditions.
The Prophet and the early Muslims were clearly aware of that and acted
accordingly. But in ibn Khaldun's time, this was no more the case. There-
fore, he set out to teach his compatriots and co-religionists the telling lessons
of history; and his new science of culture and his investigation of the natural
basis of political life within this science were intended to explain to his readers
A History of Muslim Philosophy
those elementary, indispensable natural conditions which Muslims and their
rulers need to consider if they are to succeed in preserving their religious
community and divine Law. They may not need philosophy to explain and
support their religion and Law, but they are in desperate need of it for under-
standing the natural foundation of their religion and Law, and this in turn
is an indispensable condition for preserving their way of life.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Al-Ffirabi, Talkhis Nawamis Aflatun ("Compendium Legum Platonis"), ed. Fran-
ciscus Gabrieli, The Warburg Institute, London, 1952; Ihsa 1 al~ l Ulum (Lastatistique
des sciences), ed. Osman Amin, Dar al-Fikr al-'Arabi, Cairo, 1949; Ara' Ahl al-
Madinat cA-Fadttah, Brill, Leiden, 1895; ibn Sina, Aqsam al- l Ulum al-'Aqliyyah,
Mafcba'ahHindiyyah, Cairo, 1326/1908; ibn Rushd, Fast ed-MagOl, ed. L. Gauthier;
M-uqaddimat Ibn Khaldun, ed. Fj. M. Quatremere, Paris, 1858; Muhsin Mahdi, Ibn
Khaldun's Philosophy of History, George Allen & Unwin, London, 1957.
BOOK FIVE
OTHER DISCIPLINES
(Covering Both the Early and the Later Centuries)
Part 1. Language and Literature
Chapter L
ARABIC LITERATURE: POETIC AND PROSE FORMS
A
POETRY
Let us imagine an Arab Bedouin riding his camel on frequent long journeys
across lonely deserts. While the rhythmic beating of the padded hoofs on soft
sand breaks the stillness of the air, the rider is sunk deep in recollections of
his own past. As he feels excited to share his mood with his "two companions
and fellow-travellers," there is nothing more natural than that he should
start chanting in unison with the movement which has the sole possession
of his entire perception. This unsophisticated outpouring of one's heart in
response to an occasional urge took the form of rajaz — the simple iambic
alternation of harakah (moved or vocalized) and sukun (quiescent consonant)
corresponding to the alternation in the lifting and lowering of the camel's
feet. (Cf. the khabab in which the pattern of alternation corresponds to the
pace of the horse.) The observation of the effects of the "song" induced a
deliberate practice to beguile the man and quicken the animal. As the practice
grew and attracted talent, formalities accumulated by common taste and
general acceptance, giving rise to the art of poetry. The art was not slow to
create for itself forms much more varied and complex than the original rajaz.
About the middle of the second/eighth century when al-Khalil scrutinized
the structure of Arabic poetry according to the quantitative measure suggested
to him by the different tones on the rebound of the smith's hammer (just
akin to the camel's tread) he admirably reduced it to a system of prosody
consisting of sixteen metrical forms. Some foreign influence is not precluded
from the development of some of these standard Arabic forms, all of which,
of course, did not, and could not, have an equal measure of antiquity or
popularity. What is remarkable is that this system of prosody sufficed to
985
A History of Muslim Philosophy
serve as the hard core of future indigenous development as well as assimilation
of foreign models up to the present day.
By the last quarter of the fifth century A.D. when we get our first yet full
acquaintance with Arabic poetry, myriads of tribes hailing from different
quarters of the country had commingled sufficiently at commercial-cum-
literary fairs, e.g., that of *Ukaz, religious such as at Mecca, and cultural as
that at Hirah, to evolve a common language and widely appreciated norms
and forms of artistic composition, though, naturally enough, they exhibited
peculiarities of usage in speech. This common literary medium which developed
out of the North Arabic, coinciding with the steady decline of the economic,
political and cultural influence of the South, was leavened mainly in Hirah
with the accompaniments of material and religious civilization as augmented
with currents— Judaic, Christian, and Graeco-Roman— from the opposite end
of the Northern Desert. Generally speaking, it was precise to finesse so far
as Bedouin life and environment were concerned, but lacked the facility for
conveying abstract ideas and general concepts. However, it possessed, by
the very nature of its being a compromise between various dialects, an immense
wealth of synonyms together with ample resources of rhyme and assonance
inherent in its schematic morphology. Thus aaj' (rhyme) came to be the
first and natural form of artistic composition prompted by the instinct
for symmetry and balance in the structure of short, compact sentences spe-
cially designed for intonation and oral transmission without being committed
to writing. The saf existed before metre; the evolution of metrical forms
only pushed it to the end of a verse under the name of qdfiyah. It is
sometimes overlooked that the qdfiyah constituted an essential element—
and not an additional, far less artificial, embellishment in the structure of
Arabic poetry. In other words, verse without qdfiyah has been unknown in
Arabic during its infancy as much as in its youth and old age. As we shall
see later, so long as there was healthy development, any tendency on the
part of the qafiyah to rigidity and monotony was checked in due time by
adequate adaptation to the requirements of the theme (vide the evolution of
muzdamj and musammat). In the period of decadence it was not sheer con-
servatism but a deep realization of its essential worth, which caused arti-
ficiality to be preferred to freedom. The positive function of the qdfiyah in
laying down rails, so to say, for the movement of thought, is demonstrated
by the spontaneous rush of the imagination of the audience to the end— almost
the entire later half— of a line ahead of actual recitation by the poet. 1 Such
a thrilling experience of effective communion between the poet and his
audience is in no way rare wherever Arabic poetry (or Persian or Urdu poetry
for that matter) is recited even today. This is quite apart from the practi-
cal utility of the qdfiyah in helping memorization as alluded to before.
i Note the definition by ibn Qutaibah of a born poet as "the one who indicates
to you the end of a verse in the very beginning of it, and the qafiyah in the jatihah
(opening word) itself." Al-Shi'r w-al- -SAw'ara' ', Cairo, 1367/1947, I, p. 36.
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
In the sociological fabric of the pre-Islamic time the poet occupied a very
high and influential position. The popular mind was impressed so deeply
with the efficacy of bis art that it believed him to be in communion with
some supernatural source vaguely identified with a jinnee or a devil. But the
conception about his" art was the same as about the skill of a horseman ; it
had to be consecrated entirely to the cause of the solidarity and the ascendancy
of the tribe. The poet had a task irrevocably assigned to him, which was to
act the spokesman and the counsel on behalf of the tribe. Hence he was
expected to specialize in a knowledge of the tribal saga supporting the cause
for his clients and against their rivals. 2 In short, poetry was appreciated
primarily as a weapon of offence and defence in the struggle of tribes against
tribes; its function was to commemorate the glories of the poet's own
tribe, exalt its achievements in war and peace, and embolden it against the
other tribes by holding them to scorn. There was little room for the personality
of the poet to detach itself even for a while from the interests and the fortune
of the tribe.
Naturally enough, the motifs of pre-Islamic poetry sprang fundamentally
from the spirit of the jahillyyah — the ignorance of a moral code of conduct
characterized by a strong sense of tribal solidarity based on blood kinship,
and highly volatile passions cramped within stinted sympathies and primary
selfish impulses. 3 Thus, the two oldest kinds of verse were the hijd" (satire)
and the fakhr (self-glorification) with the keynote of the hamas or desperate
pursuit of unbridled aggression. True, the nasib (erotic verse) also must have had
an independent form in the oldest time but all the same it could not have occupied
a position other than the subsidiary one which is assigned to it in the scheme
of the qasidah. After all, the theme of love had no bearing on the security of
the tribe. The very reason that its interest was human and universal, i.e.,
not peculiar to the tribe, was enough to render it inconsequential.
Leaving aside the hijd', which has throughout maintained its independent
form, the fakhr in its kindred form of madih (eulogy) came to assume the
pivotal position in the structure of the qasidah, which was devised specially
to rope in the nasib and many other minor forms of occasional verse to sub-
serve it. This "loose-knitting" of the diverse kinds into a rigidly con-
ventional structure seems to have come into vogue not long before our earliest
acquaintance with Arabic poetry, i.e., about 125 years before Islam. 4 The
2 It was perhaps on account of this special knowledge that he was called shaHr,
i.e., the "kenner," who knew better than others. There is, however, another view
which traces the word to its Hebrew counterpart meaning "chanting" and "sing-
ing." Anyhow, the poet only knew and sang whereas the authority for taking deci-
sions and giving judgments rested with another class known as the hukkarn,
Fajr al-Islam, p. 56.
3 The schooling of the impulses through hudud Allah (limits of the Sacred Law)
pinpoints the difference between the jahillyyah and Islam.
4 Consistently with the Arab habit of ascribing long, gradual developments to
particular persons, the innovation of the qasidah is said to have originated with
987
A History of Muslim Philosophy
order in the composition of the qasldah is invariably as follows. First comes
the nasib by way of a prelude; second, the modify as the main part; and,
third, the khatimah (epilogue) which is mostly didactic. A certain proportion
was observed particularly between the first two parts on the principle that
the nasib should neither overshadow the modify nor pass without fulfilling its
function of catching the ear of the audience for the latter.
The Nasib. — Usually the poet pictures himself as confronting, in the course
of his journeys to and from, the remains of the encampment which once had
been the scene of his love. This gives him the opportunity to depict with
remarkable pathos the scene of separation and recollect in moving terms the
charms of the beloved and the pleasures of her company in the past. The
physical charms are dwelt upon with much gusto and not a little sensuous-
ness. The discreteness of the Arab mind is amply shown in concentration on
individual parts of the body one by one. To take just one typical instance,
the Arab poet has a long breath in expatiating on the saliva — its purity,
coolness, freshness, and fragrance like that of "early morning rain collected
in a clear stony pond" — which nectar he would suck, draught after draught,
with the zest of a drunkard in order to convey the meaning of the simple
word "kiss." A life free from hard work is idealized for its effect in promoting
feminine delicacy and untarnished complexion. To stay behind the curtains,
well protected from the rigours of the weather, and jealously guarded in the
manner of "the delicate shell of an egg under the feathers" was the vision
which enthralled the heart of a young damsel. Qualities of heart, particularly
modesty, gentleness of manners, friendliness towards neighbours, and mirth-
ful coquetry in the company of the lover, are also highly appreciated but
only as adjuncts of physical beauty. Having perforce to suffer long spans of
solitude due to unsettled life, the Bedouin acquired high sensitivity to any
stimulus to his memory. 6 Hence addresses to the natural surroundings associat-
ed with the exploits of the past and outbursts of sympathetic response to the
cooing of the dove and the like are an ubiquitous feature. Further, it was
this relish for musing which earned for the image of the beloved (khaydl or taif)
a special place in Arabic poetry.
The poet's feeling of love for the beloved is expressed only in general terms
such as the comparison of his own heartache to that of "a she-camel who
has lost her young one." For the rest, the pursuit of love is only reminiscent
of "the hot chase of a game." The only relieving feature is that the Arab
lover insists on a response to his love, and that without any trace of cringing.
Muhalhil b. Rabi'ah (c. 500 A. D.), whose very name bears testimony to his con-
tribution. Al-Jumahi (Tabaqat, Cairo, 1952, p. 24) dates it from the time of 'Abd
al-Muttalib and Hashim b. 'Abd Manaf.
5 There are touching stories of lovers who would intercede with the hunters to
have the gazelles set free because of the resemblance of their eyes to the eyes of
the beloved; cf. Raghbat al-'Amit, VII, p. 39.
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
He would start taking pride in his own qualities so as not to leave any doubt
about his deserts for the esteem of the beloved, but in the end he would not
mind warning bluntly that although he relishes coquetry he cannot brook
any affront to his dignity. That is why in describing the union he would
take care to mention the yielding, passive and tacit though it may be, on
the part of the beloved.
Incidental to the journeying of the poet in quest of love and fortune comes
the description of the animals and the natural scene. It has been said that
the camel occupies the same place in Arabic poetry as the cow in the Rg-
Veda. The horse, no less indispensable for the normal pursuits of life including
war, comes next. Though the description came soon afterwards to sound
jejune even to the townsfolk of Baghdad, one cannot help being moved even
today by the tenderly feeling shown to the two animals which equals to,
sometimes even exceeds, that reserved for the members of the household. To
bring out certain points of comparison in the riding beasts, the poet turns to the
wild animals, among whom the pride of place goes to the wild ass, the wild
cow, and the ostrich. The subject of wild life is frequently enlivened with
fine thrilling scenes of flight and chase. The natural scene is, of course, dominat-
ed by clouds, thunder, lightning, rain, and the mirage, not to speak of the
desert and the mountain valleys.
The Madih. — The nasib formed only a prelude to catch the ear of the audience,
the main theme being the modify. Though in the form of personal eulogy, it is
really a concentration of the pride in the tribe. The particular patron to
whom the verses are addressed is a mere peg on which to hang the ideal that
united the tribe as against other tribes. The so-called virtues constituting this
ideal are, in addition to the fyamds already noted, the overpowering passion
for vendetta, loyalty to friends and allies (and not to any moral law or civic
organization), and hospitality to guests. The pride in valour was so all-engross-
ing that the dictates of prudence always needed a special, and somewhat
diffident, pleading. But, as a rule, the Bedouin considered it below his dignity
to try strength with an unequal foe, which is reflected in his acknowledgment
of merit on the other side. Those who refused to be restrained by the collective
interest and initiative of the tribe in the practice of these same virtues were
designated the sa'alik, i.e., disowned outlaws, whose production bears the
exceptional feature of defiance of tribal authority and extra hardihood. Hospi-
tality and generosity were characterized by the same excesses as courage and
aimed only at achieving prominence over other tribes. With the transition from
tribal into some kind of State organization as, for example, at Hirah, the
panegyric tended to be more and more personal and acquired features of
flattery.
The Khatimah.— The didactic epilogue was devoid of any depth of thought
and merely embodied lessons learnt from practical experience in the particular
and limited milieu. Religion sat very lightly on the pagan Arab ; some occasional
references to pre-Islamic ritual only prove that it was treated as part of an
L
A History of Muslim Philosophy
inherited tribal custom 6 without symbolizing any moral ideal. The absence
of religious thought and feeling is fully confirmed by the total lack of reasoning
of any kind whatsoever. Death is frequently mentioned as a stark fact, but
it only stimulated bravery, rather rashness, on the battlefield, on the one
hand, and a sort of hectic hedonism in the intervals of peace, on the other.
It is in this context that the poetry of the Jewish and Christian poets and such
pagan poets as were influenced by their thought (e. g. Zuhair and the Hanifs)
assumes a distinctive character. The idea of submission to a Supreme Power
controlling man and the universe, a life after death involving moral retribution,
and a spirit of peace and respect for the rights of others (the very antithesis
of hamas) stand out as streaks of early morning light in the surrounding
darkness. Such poetry flourished mostly in Hlrah and the oasis towns like
Yathrib and al-Ta'if, which were also the centres of material civilization.
Hence truly religious thought and emotion are found side by side with ex-
hilarating pictures of urban refinement in luxury as in the poetry of 'Adiyy
b. Zaid. It is noteworthy that the Romans and Christians were throughout, from
the beginning down to the 'Abbasid period, the purveyors not only of wines
but also of the etiquette of wine-drinking. 7 Anyhow, wine-drinking had become
a common habit. On the other hand, artistic music and dancing, so far as
they are mentioned in pre-Islamic poetry, are mere cliches popularized by
individuals who had occasions of frequenting centres of high life under
Persian and/or Roman influence. Both these arts were neither indigenous to nor
common in the Arabian society of the days before the Islamic conquests.
The qasidah presented a series of thoughts moulded in self-contained verses
strung together in the most impressive form of a single metre and qafiyah.
A thought running into more than one verse was a rarity and regarded some-
what as a weakness of the poet. But one wonders whether the outward unity
which was so perfect as to invite the charge of monotony from the uninitiated
possessed also a similar unity of thought and ideas. The fact is that there was
enough of coherence internally within the two main parts, viz., the nasib
and the madih, though the appreciation of it depends upon a certain degree of
familiarity with the pattern of life and the train of thought and feeling generated
by it. It was only the transition from the first to the second part which was
rather abrupt, either lacking a link altogether or depending upon one which
was clearly artificial and weak. It is, however, untrue to say that the Arabs
were not conscious of it ; on the other hand, they were throughout applying
their ingenuity to htisn al-istitrad (grace of digression). Similarly, there is
no doubt that the ideas as well as the modes of expression were stereotyped,
but the primary reason for it is to be sought in the physical existence of the
Arab Bedouin which was characterized, above all, by little variety. The
6 The stock phrase attributed in the Qur'an to the pagans in defence of their
ways that "they found their forefathers practising them" faithfully exposes their
lack of thought and reasoning.
7 Vide al-Ma'arri, Risalat al-Gkufran, ed. Bint al-Shati, p. 246.
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
preoccupation with a hard and meagre subsistence in a monotonous natural
scene contributed to averseness to all serious reflection and to poverty of
theme. At the same time the totalitarian demands of tribal loyalty left little
room for indulgence in personal experience or individual reaction. As soon as
thought was quickened by spiritual impulses from Judaism and Christianity
and the monotony of life was relieved by the encroachment of Aramaean and
Persian material civilizations, the structure of the qasidah proved accommodat-
ing enough to change.
In addition to hija', there was one more form of artistic poetry, namely,
the ritha' (elegy), which maintained its position independently of the qasidah.
Although this form too had its own cliches and was dominated by the spirit
of hamas and the passion for vendetta, yet the element of strong personal
emotion running through it is often genuine and highly remarkable. It is this
reliability of the personal element which brings to the fore the strength of
the lament of the sisters as compared with that of the wives, which is again
a projection of the all-powerful importance of blood kinship.
The tradition has concerned itself only with the preservation of artistic
poetry; 8 unconventional pieces prompted by events of everyday life were
allowed to lapse. Yet a number of them noted for wit and humour (at-mulah)
are available for enjoyment on informal occasions.
Islam and Poetry. — Wherever the ideals of the jahiliyyah suffered a decline
owing to the growth of a sense of justice and corporate life under some kind
of civic and political organization, there was left little scope for self-glorifica-
tion at the expense of others (i.e., hija\ fajchr, and hamas). Al-Jumahi makes
an interesting point when he attributes the paucity of poets and the meagreness
of poetry in the tribe of Quraish already before the advent of Islam to a sense
of respect for the rights of others as exemplified by the incident arising out
of the lampooning by ibn al-Zib'ara. 9 Thus pre-Islamic poetry being so depen-
dent on tribal wars for its impulses and motives, Islam was bound to make
the ground slip under the feet of the poets. As soon as the faithful renounced
all pride (al-nakhwah) and blind partisanship (al-'asabiyyah) in favour of
a universal egalitarian brotherhood- and organized their life under a govern-
ment by law, which guaranteed mutual rights and obligations, eliminating
resort to force, and treated satire as punishable libel, the poets naturally felt
that their day was over. Unable or unwilling to appreciate any ideal of
morality, they turned their invectives against the person of Muhammad and
aligned themselves actively on the side of his opponents. It was such poets,
and not poets or poetry in general, who were denounced in the Qur'an as
incapable of leadership due to lack of moral thinking and purposeful activity. 10
8 Al-Jumahi, op. cit., p. 11.
"* Ibid., p. 197 ; see also p. 217 where the same reason is adduced for the meagre-
ness of poetry in al-Ta'if and 'Uman.
10 Qur'an, xxvi, 224 et seq. There is an exception in favour of those who are
devoted to righteous belief and good deeds.
991
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Severe penalties had also to be meted out to a number of them such as abu
'Azza, al-Nadr b. al-Harith and Ka'b b. al-Ashraf— all of whom had played
a part as active competitors while using the art of poetry as an additional
weapon directed especially against the person of Muhammad, whose kindness
they were not loth to exploit whenever they found themselves helpless.
But the reason for the vehement pique and chagrin of the poets against
Islam went much deeper. The ideals of the jahillyyah were not the only thing
involved; their art itself was threatened with dislodgment from the position
or supremacy enjoyed theretofore. Was there not the Qur'an held up as a
challenge to artistic composition ? It is quite understandable that the Arabs
should be completely at a loss to place the Qur'an in any of the categories
of artistic composition known to them. They would call it al-shi'r (poetry)
when their own poetic production was so palpably different from it both in
form and content. Only poetry had been known to exercise such sway
over the minds of the people as the Qur'an did. If it were not poetry it could
only be grouped along with the utterances of a soothsayer (kahin) or a person
in trance (mafnun). This equation, however, had an ostensibly disparaging
intent inasmuch as such utterances were seldom held in high esteem as a
piece of art. The allusion was only to their enigmatic character in which the
people deciphered fortune and prophecy. When at last they turned to the
content, they "gave unmistakable proof of their jahillyyah outlook on finding
the Qur'an to be merely a bundle of "the stories of the ancient peoples" (asaflr
al-awwalln). Soon they propped up one of them, al-Nadr b. al-Harith, to
draw the people away from the Qur'an with his skill in reciting the stories
of Rustam and Isfandiyar. As a matter of fact, the form of the Qur'an is
derived from a familiar pattern, yet it represents a new class by itself. It is
prose composed of short, compact sentences which, when read together, sound
as balanced counterparts (mathani), the endings (fawasil) of them having
a distinguishable cadence free from the shackles of a regular saf . It bewildered
and dismayed the Arabs that this form which, in contrast with the familiar
pattern of the soothsayers, tending to simplicity rather than artificial encum-
brance, should soar to such height of inimitable perfection as to constitute a
challenge to poetry. The same is true of the diction employed in the Qur'an :
it is clear and easily intelligible (mvJbin), yet pure and elegant. But whatever
the elegance of form and diction, the uniqueness of the Qur'an lay particularly
in its content: the reflection on the world of nature as distinguished from an
aesthetic worship of it, the search for a goal of fife and an ideal of morality
in human conduct, in short, the awakening of the forces of good in the nature
of man to set limits to, and control, the evil in himself. It was this content
which made the Qur'an the prototype of an entirely new class of literary
composition. In later times it was an aberration of the pre-Islamic taste
which exalted the excellence of the word over and above that of the content. 11
1 The example of the Qur'an illustrates the principle of novelty in literary
992
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
It is quite easy for us to realize the dismay of the poets whose production,
when judged subsequently by the standards of the Greek philosophers, was
found to be nothing but an exhortation to lewdness; only two qualities of
character, namely, bravery and generosity, were such as could be said to be
harmless to the youth. But the Prophet appreciated their art much more
than they realized. He would not taboo poetry ; rather, he would listen eagerly
to the verse of Umayyah b. abi al-Salt and many others. He was not even
indifferent. On the other hand, he adopted the way of active patronage and
guidance to make clear the demands for adjustment. As an example, let us
take the case of Ka'b b. Zuhair. The ode which brought him the burdah
(mantle) as a prize is in the traditional style: it opens with erotic verses
lamenting separation from the beloved, Su'ad, and recalling her physical
charms, not excluding the intoxication of the saliva compared to wine. The
inadlh puts on a new aspect in so far as the glorification of the new ideal
is concerned. 12 But the poet did not yet know how to restrain his passion for
satire; he had to make amends for suppressed expressions on the Ansar.
Thus, the only demand made by orthodox Islam on the poets was to avoid
the proud and gleeful recounting of adventures of sinful pleasure such as
abound in the verses of the "Vagabond Prince," and to refrain from indulging
in tribal pride or exaltation of force regardless of moral rectitude. 13 Within
these ordinary limits of decency and peaceful life the old literary traditions
were to survive and grow. It has particularly to be noted that erotic interest
in woman or even the mention of wine as a symbol of joyful experience was
fully legitimate in the context of Islam's recognition of merit only in the
lawful pursuit, and not in renunciation, of sensuous pleasure. As the examples
of Dabi' b. al-Harith and al-Hutai'ah would prove, only the satire and the
libel were sternly put down.
Development of the Ghazal. — The detachment of poetry from the pas-
sions and the fury of tribal antagonism as well as the absence under the
Orthodox Caliphate of that corruptive patronage which draws talent away
from universal human interests to flattery of personages, conduced inevitably
to concentration on the theme of love in poetry and song. These arts were
cultivated in the Hijaz by the sprightly and intelligent youth from among
the nobility of the Ansar and the Muhajirin, who were precluded from play-
ing their part in politics and government and were at the same time pam-
pered with frequent accessions to their already vast hereditary fortune in
the form of largesses on behalf of the Umayyads. Thus frustration, leisure,
form. In order to achieve the paramount purpose of communication and effect,
novelty must always be embedded in familiarity.
12 The verses of ibn al-Zib'ara are much more explicit on the subject of renuncia-
tion of the old and devotion to the new ideal, vide al-Jumahi, op. cit., pp. 202-03.
13 An excellent example of the change of values in this respect is provided by
the hija" of al-Najaghi which was taken by 'Umar to be an eulogy, vide ibn Qutaibah,
op. cit., I, p. 290.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
and opulence all combined to turn the creative genius to art and amusement.
The peculiarly Islamic institution of rehabilitating the prisoners of war as
members of the households of the conquerors, instead of segregating them in
penal camps, has always had far-reaching consequences, in the field of cultural
interchange but never were such consequences so great as in the case of the
conquest of Persia. Suffice it to say that it was the new Persian element in
the households of Mecca and Medina which for the first time introduced
artistic music and dancing in the very heart of Arabian society. 14 In the special
traditions of the people and the time, there was no music and dancing with-
out poetry. Therefore, poetry underwent a highly welcome and profound
change both in form as well as content. Whereas in the jahillyyah period
the motif of aggressive self-glorification often made some of the more militant
tribes positively to discourage the ghazal, it now came to be the main theme
catering to the refined aesthetic taste and tenderly feelings of the new society.
Naturally enough, the erotic prelude came in handy for development as an
independent form, which, by the way, marked the beginning of the breaking-
up of the "loose unity of the qasidah."
The development of the independent form of the ghazal took two distinct
and parallel lines. First, the licentious (al-ibdJtiyy) ghazal, best represented
by 'Umar b. abi Rabl'ah (d.c. 101/719), flourished in the towns and faithfully
reflected the high life obtaining there. As compared with the pre-Islamic
nasib, this ghazal is an end in itself. The poet is no longer a warrior made
essentially of hard stuff, who snatches a few moments of respite to devote
to the hot pursuit of a woman. Rather he is an amiable and amorous youth
entirely devoted to the cultivation of his feeling of love and desire for soft
dalliance without being distracted by any thought of tribal security and
personal safety. The description of physical charms is no more a mere
description ; it is rather a fine aesthetic appreciation of beauty. Still more
remarkable is the shifting of the focus inwards and the transformation
of the union into an exchange of feeling and sentiment. 15 And both the
lover and the beloved are endowed with sharp wit, humour, and the mood
for sport. In short, the qualities of the mind and the longings of the heart
come to the fore and find unimpeded expression. Special delight is taken in
the evasion of social restrictions and the celebration of clandestine visits
while the congregation at the time of the hajj is brought in as the
connoisseur's opportunity for the enjoyment of beauty from far and near.
The second kind of ghazal was born of the ideal of Platonic love cultivated
in the desert. The chastening influence of the restraints of Islam on the
14 Up till the days of 'Umar, Arabian music was nothing but intonation of
voice in the manner of a camel-driver reciting his songs (vide al-Aghani, VIII,
p. 149, quoted in Fajr al-Islam, p. 120). This accounts most plausibly for the
absence of reference in the Qur'fin to music and dancing while the symbolization
of wine is so commonplace.
15 Vide al-Jahiz quoted in Duha al-Islam, I, p. 15.
994
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
simple-living Bedouins had the remarkable result of originating the conception
of love shorn of all tinge of bodily lust — an ideal conception thoroughly un-
known to the pre-Islamic Arab. This ideal is enshrined in the highly subjective
verse centring around the popular stories of Majnun-Laila and Jamil-Buthai-
nah. They may or may not have been real historical personages; what really
matters is that they do represent a type of idealistic lover who regards any
touch of lust as desecration of love, beauty, and art. No wonder that the
physical charms are overshadowed by a tite-a-tite between two hearts full
of deep pathos.
Vilifying ghazal. — It has already been noted that the lover-poets of the
towns were really men of frustrated political ambitions. Their impotent
rage against the rulers would not be held back even when they sought
to beguile it with art. Rather it is highly interesting to note that it
should turn the artistic form of the licentious ghazal into an instrument for
vilification and political vendetta. Taking the typical example of ibn Qais
al-Ruqayyat (d. c. 80/699-700) one finds him mentioning Umm al-Banin, the
wife of al-Walid b. 'Abd al-Malik, as the object of his flirtation. His aim
was no other than to leave the Umayyad monarch smarting with anger, even
though sometimes he adroitly contrived in the verse itself to absolve the
innocent lady of guilt.
Apart from political vendetta, it became a commonplace with the poets
to give rebirth to hija' in the form of ghazal by mentioning the ladies and the
female relations of their enemies in shamefully amorous terms. How unrelated
to truth all this was, is illustrated by the incident of Umm Ja'far. When she
could not keep patience over al-Ahwas, a Medinese poet, mentioning her in
his verses in order to bring her people into disrepute, she caught hold of him
one day in the market-place and demanded of him the money which, she
made out, he owed to her. As the poet swore that he did not know her at all,
she remarked : Of course, you do not know me, yet you mention many things
about me in your verses. It is no surprise that State authority was some-
times invoked against such poets in the same way as it was invoked in the case
of the direct hijd' of al-Hutai'ah and others. At the same time there is evidence
to show that at least the high-class ladies aspired to have their charms sung
by the poets in the same way as in our own days they would feel proud
to see their photographs in newpapers. It must, however, be remembered
that, on the whole, "licence" was confined to a disregard of social con-
ventions relating to contacts between the two sexes ; otherwise obscenity was
guarded against in all good taste.
In regard to form, it is enough to remind ourselves that the lover-poets of
Mecca and Medina produced for the first time a lyric verse specially designed
to be set to music. With this purpose they naturally preferred such metres
as were short and characterized by an easy flow, though they continued to
rely mainly on the old tradition itself. Consequent upon the development
of natural, humanistic interests, all artificiality about the language and
995
A History of Muslim Philosophy
pompousness was shed and simple unaffected expression in familiar words
and soft tones came to be aimed at. To some, though very limited, extent,
continuous verse also came into use for such purposes as the reproduction of
dialogues in love-poetry.
It so happened that the merits of the Umayyad poetry set out above
received little appreciation owing to the preoccupation of the scholars with
such pre-Islamic poetry as might be helpful in the study and preservation of
the idiom of the Qur'an. With regard to its appreciation, the time factor
alone was of the prime importance ; hence the prejudice in favour of the pre-
Islamic verse became stereotyped, and all-pervading. It was ibn Khaldun who
first realized that, linguistic research apart, the intrinsic artistic merits of the
Umayyad poetry were definitely far superior to those of the pre-Islamic
poetry. And the reason for it was that those who lived under Islam benefited
from the model of high-class speech provided by the Qur'an and the Hadith;
hence their literary taste improved a great deal beyond that of the pre-
Islamic people. That this improvement should have taken a generation to
manifest itself fully in poetry (and also in prose), was quite natural and should
not stand in the way of tracing it to its origins in Islam. The depth of thought,
the richness of imagination, the paramountcy of content, the search within
for the feelings of the heart, and the consciousness of the restraint of reason,
no matter if it is disobeyed, are all traceable direct to the influence of Islam
and its Holy Book, and these general qualities are perceptible in the post-
Islamic production even where the themes are un-Islamic. It was perhaps
this un-Islamic element such as the "licence" in ghazal and the lampooning
in the naqd'id which, in addition to the necessities of linguistic research, turned
the attention away from the contribution of Islam to the literary production
of the Umayyad period. Ibn Khaldun further tells us that some of the learned
scholars of his time had to acknowledge their dormant impression of the
superior merits of the post-Islamic production, as if it were to their own sur-
prise, but were unable to give any reason for it. 18 No wonder that the view
of ibn Khaldun should remain unattended until it found an echo in Taha
Husain, although the latter's judgment seems to have been the result of the
application of the modern standards of literary criticism in the West.
If one were to look for the dominating motif of poetry in Islam itself, it
will be found in the verses of the Kharijites. Their production represents a
characteristic regimentation of the pre-Islamic qualities of hardihood, courage,
and sacrifice in the service of the ideology of Islam. Just because it is as true
to life as the poetry of the pre-Islamic age, the new spirit, ideals, and senti-
ments are clearly discernible. Yet it symbolizes, according to the cultural
milieu of the Kharajites. the purely ancient Arab tradition as mellowed by
Islamic puritanism. Most interesting is the survival without any loss of attrac-
tion of the erotic theme in a society where even the "talk" of wine or a mere
s Ibn Khaldun, Maqaddimah, Chap. VI (49).
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
hint of laxity in relationship between the two sexes was an unpardonable
offence. Equally notable is the spirit of martyrdom which would not allow
virility to be impaired by a relish of tragedy and pathos for their own sake.
While under the Islamic influence poetry was set on its course of develop-
ment along natural, humanistic lines, the corruptive patronage of the Court
stepped in to revive the old tribal antagonism and buy off unscrupulous,
though talented, poets to act as its propagandists. Thus the trio — Farazdaq,
Jarir, and al-Akhtal— attained high fame in the field of panegyric and lam-
poon. They couched praise for the Umayyads as well as invectives against
their opponents in the true form of the qcmdah with its carefully chosen diction
and high-flown style. The Christian al-Akhtal, who, by the way, was considered
to be free to revel in wine without offending Muslim piety, was also remarkable
for his willingness to step in where a Muslim, irrespective of his alignment,
feared to tread, namely, the satire against the Ansar. The counter offensive
from the other side showed a much more genuine feeling of devotion not only
to the House of the Prophet but also to the ideal of justice and public weal
popularly associated with it.
The contrast between the settled life in the towns and the Bedouin ways of
the desert has throughout been a powerful factor in Arab thought and
history. Islam, with its marked predilection for congregational activity,
accelerated as never before the process of drawing emigrants from the desert,
who flocked into the towns to enlist in military service, State organizations,
and economic activity. This created a nostalgia in the mind of some poets
who introduced a new theme, viz., the comparison of the new life, including
the charms and manners of the damsels of the towns, with the old ways of
the desert. Even in regard to the qcmdah, though its conventional form
remained intact, the new pattern of society changed the modes of thought
and the manners of expression sufficiently to render the purely Bedouin tradi-
tion a mere curiosity. This curiosity had its last protagonist in Dhu al-
Rummah (d. 117/755). It was somewhat in the samespirit that the oldest and the
simplest form of rajaz was employed in long qasidahs pedantically overloaded
with rare vocabulary.
The 'Abbdsid Era.— With the advent of the 'Abbasids the corruptive
patronage of the Court, which siphoned poetic talent into the madih, expanded
to such an extent that only a few could keep themselves free from it just
because they were consciously determined to do so. Curiously enough, as the
Caliphate declined it only led to a multiplicity of such centres of patronage
and thus the servility of the poets went on increasing further and further.
At any rate, the growth of luxury and the enrichment of culture from foreign
sources was bound to seek an outlet in new forms and modes of poetry.
Fortunately the traditional qcmdah did comprise within its orbit a large
number of themes concerned with peaceful enjoyment or warlike activity,
which, in their developed form under the Empire, now claimed separate
treatment. All that was required was to salvage the various themes from
L
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
regimentation by the all-engrossing passion of tribal solidarity as signified
by the supremacy of the madih. This process, which started with the develop-
ment of the ghazal under the Umayyads, took its full course in the following
era until all the topics treated incidentally in the old tradition branched off
into independent kinds.
Further Development of the Ghazal. — It will be remembered that Islam, not
being a monastic religion, regards woman not as a taboo but as one of the
three things dearest to the Prophet. Thus the theme in itself, far from offending
the moral sense, was particularly compatible with Islam's bold affirmation
of nature. Significant is the use in the Qur'an of this very imagery of woman
and wine for the conveyance of an idea of the highest bliss in the heavens.
It must, however, be admitted that a certain degree of licentiousness has
actually attended upon the development of the ghazal from the very begin-
ning. Towards this element of licentiousness the early Islamic society adopted
an attitude of practical toleration as apart from official recognition; it was
only the personal scandal which was generally condemned by the people and
sternly curbed by the State. This tolerant attitude is best embodied
in an incident at the Court of Sulaiman b. 'Abd al-Malik. Once when al-
Farazdaq recited to the monarch such verses of his as amounted to a con-
fession of adultery, the monarch perhaps could think of no better way of
expressing his appreciation than to embarrass the poet with a threat of legal
cognizance and penalty. But calmly the poet asked him: "The sanction be-
hind the penalty?" "Of course, the Qur'an," replied the monarch, where-
upon the poet retorted : "All right, the Qur'an itself assumes my innocence
when it says of the poets that they 'celebrate in speech what they do not
practise!'" 17 Truly, there is much more than wit in the argument of the poet;
it gives pointed cognizance to the fact that a poet relies mainly on his mental
experience. Practical experience has no essential bearing on art; rather it is
a matter of personal character. 18 In the words of abu Nuwas, one can safely
and effectively "talk of fire without burning one's mouth." Thus cultivation
of the erotic verse, including the licentious ghazal, originated and flourished
vigorously under Islam in public circles. But as soon as it was transferred to
the royal palace it suffered from the same servility to the over-indulged baser
instinct of the patrons as the madih in relation to their inflated sense of
vainglory. At the palace the poet was promoted to the position of a
boor, companion who shared the privacy and the intimacy of the patron,
and enlightened, diverted, and amused him with appropriate citations,
17 Ibn Qutaibah, op. cit., I, p. 451.
18 In all Islamic literature some of the best wine songs have been produced
by those who never tasted it. After all, does an actor actually experience death
before he successfully acts the scene on the stage? Even the poets who waxed
eloquent on the properties of the saliva safeguarded the chastity of the lady-love
by saying at the end that they knew of it just as one knew of the water in the
cloud by the flash of lightning.
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
impromptu compositions, and ready wit. It is legitimate to link this
institution with the life of the pre-Islamic poet, al-Nabighah, at the Court
of Hirah, but one has to take note of the steadily increasing dissoluteness and
sexual exhibitionism which began with al-Walid II and reached its climax
in abu Nuwas. 18 This exhibitionism was designated separately as al-khald'ah
al-mujun and was relished only in the company of intimate friends as a
source of enjoyment. From the palaces it percolated down to public circles
and was preserved only for the sake of witticism and elegance of language —
undeniably a saving grace about it. When devoid of wit and shorn of all
obliquity it was condemned outright as obscene and in sheer bad taste.
Bohemianism — In public circles the joys of life were idealized in terms
overtly disdainful of moral restraint under the pressure of another set of
circumstances in which national and political rivalries played a significant
part. It has been noted above that in the initial stage licence in poetry was
treated apart from the personal character of the poet. But gradually the poet's
own guilty conscience and the general social approbation caused him to
introduce in poetry itself some sort of defence of his own promiscuous way
of life. This involved an active propagation of the disregard of social and
moral values, scorn for the religious preceptor, an invidious lack of faith in
after-life and at the same time a somewhat philosophical justification for the
excesses from God's quality of "forgiveness." Even tins development left
the larger section of society unalarmed; it was taken merely as an exercise
of wit and humour. Soon, however, there was a further development in the
peculiar atmosphere of Baghdad which was torn by Persian-Arab rivalry —
a rivalry fanned by the alignment of the Persian element with the 'Abbasids.
In Baghdad certain types of literary Bohemians, mostly Persians, organized
themselves into cells or clubs where wine, women (those of- a low status, of
course), and poetry full of sarcasm for the orthodox way of life were zealously
enjoyed. From apologetics it now passed into the phase of active glorification
of practical libertinism. And all this was done in a spirit of arrogant demon-
stration of the intellectual refinement and cultural superiority of the Persians
so much so that zarf (quickness of wit) came to be proverbially associated
with this class of proud libertines— zindiqs as they were called. 20 Although
it is very doubtful that many of these Bohemians were genuinely devoted to
Zoroastrianism or Manichaeanism as against Islam, it is a fact that some of
them were bold enough to mention the names of Zoroaster and Mani as the
Bacchus-like patrons of libertinism as against the restrictions on pleasure
symbolized by Islam. Anyway, there is little doubt that this cultural arrogance
19 It is only an exuberance of popular fancy which has foisted the mujun of
abu Nuwas on the company of Harun al-Rashid. Ibn Khaldun has noted the in-
congruity of it with the restraint and dignity of the bearing of the great monarch.
20 An exact parallel is to be observed in our own day: la it not that wine-
drinking, ball-room dancing, and cabaret shows are associated with the superiority
of the cultural taste and the intellectual refinement of Western provenance ?
A History of Muslim Philosophy
was linked with the aspiration to greater and greater political control, which
made the 'Abbasids closely watch and suspect their own supporters. While
the public were left speculating as to the cause of the sudden downfall of
the Barmakids, a methodical 2M«%-hunt was set afoot, the verses of the
poets were incriminatingly dissected at ceremonial trials and the guillotine
applied to the partners in the widespread net of conspiracy. 21 Thus the poetry
of Bashshar (d. 168/784) came to be typical of that pursuit of refinement and
culture which is associated with the enjoyment of woman and wine and their
celebration in arts and song enlivened by wit, humour, and sarcasm on social
and moral restrictions.
Before we pass on it has to be added in regard to these libertines that their
fund of humour and sarcasm was not exhausted in their engagements with
the opponents; their unprincipled levity often caused them to exercise the
same resources against one another. Hence most of them have the reputation
as satirists as well.
New Features of the Qhazal. — A few special features of the new ghazal
under the 'Abbasids have to be noted. First, there was the addition, almost
substitution, of the male for the female object of love. It must be admitted
that it almost amounted to a common social vice attributable to Persian
influence. Secondly, a refined taste in similes and metaphors and the subtlety
of imagination in general are also traceable to the same source. Thirdly,
though gleeful descriptions of wine were quite old in Arabic poetry, the
subject came now to be cultivated as an independent art. As with the theme
of beauty so with that of wine ; it is no longer a mere description of the trans-
parency of the glass, the colour of the wine, the various stages of brewing,
and the haggling of the wine-seller over its price, nor is wine-drinking a mere
appurtenance of nobility. The emphasis now is on the inner sensation of
abandonment and revelry experienced by the drunkard. Lastly, one has to
take account of the special characteristic of Islamic society which causes
even renegades of the type of abu Nuwas to be overtaken by remorse and
pious reflection in old age. Hence, al-shaib w-cd-shabdb (old age and youth)
developed into a recurring and semi-independent theme closely associated
with the nasib. It is characterized by recollections of the pleasures which are
no more within reach or capacity — a feature inherited from pagan poetry.
Under the influence of Islam it was complemented with a desire to make
amends for the erroneous ways of the past.
21 It is not merely a sentimental reaction but a perfectly reasonable attitude
that the liberties taken by Iqbal's "love" in the presence of God be denied to
one who talks of God from the atheistic viewpoint. A verse of Hfifiz ridiculing
formalism in religion will be appreciated by the Muslims, who would legitimately
resent the same being quoted in the context of an anti-God movement. Also
significant are the words in which al-Mahdi interceded with his father, al-Mansur,
on behalf of Muti' b. Iyfls. He pleaded that MutI' was only a fasiq (libertine) and
not a zindiq, i.e., not committed to overthrowing the existing order.
1000
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
Moral, Philosophical, and Mystic Poetry.— It would be a very lopsided
view indeed if we imagined the 'Abbasid society to be merely that which is
pictured by the boon companions of the Mite and the Bohemians of the
metropolis. Religion and morality had their own devotees and champions in
no way negligible either in numbers or in importance. In the very nature of
things, however, religion, as apart from religious sentiment, could not be
cultivated in poetry. Morals formed a fit theme for poetical art. They also
had a precedent in the so-called wise sayings of the pre-Islamic poets, though
these latter were entirely devoid of any element of reasoning in them. Abu
al-'Atahiyah (d. 213/828) introduced moralizing verse characterized by thought
and reflection but it was because of this very new basis that it came in for
reserve and suspicion. Also it inevitably involved criticism of the prevalent
modes of society. Abu al-'Atahiyah sometimes appears as the spokesman
of the downtrodden masses bringing to the notice of the Caliph their economic
plight and difficulties. Most unfortunate of all, the entire theme was per-
meated with a mood of pessimism which persisted and was steadily augmented
by the influx of philosophical ideas and monastic tendencies. Philosophical
poetry reached its highest achievement with abu al-'Ala' al-Ma'arri (d. 449/
1057), who made a frontal attack on all religions as such and exalted reason
in opposition to revelation. Yet he remained the pessimist par excellence. His
eclecticism also centred around the austere as exemplified by the particular
features of Indian philosophy adopted by him. Still more important is to
remember that pure philosophy proved no more delectable in verse than
religion. Even though abu al-'Ala' was a master of literary arts, his philo-
sophical poetry remained a simple statement of judgment and argument un-
clothed in poetic imagery ; hence it provided enough justification for denouncing
it as "no poetry at all" (ibn Khaldun). His resort to jugglery with words is
also a further proof, if proof were needed, of his woeful failure to devise a
truly poetic form for the presentation of his philosophical thought. 22 That
is why his poetry seldom achieved any high degree of popularity, though
he was, and has throughout been, highly respected as a scholar. It is wrong to
attribute this to the prejudice against the anti-Islamic ideas contained in it.
Had it been so, the production of the libertine poets would not have fared
any better/The true reason is that abu al-'Ala's poetry was bare of essential
poetic appurtenances. In the words of an Arab critic, the art of poetry con-
sists in making a thing appear beautiful: the intrinsic beauty of the thing or
the idea would not make up for any crudity of presentation. The libertine
poets were accomplished masters of this art of presentation; hence, unlike
abu al-'Ala', they were widely enjoyed but seldom respected.
22 In our own time Iqbal succeeded eminently where abu al-'Ala' failed miserably.
Iqbal's employment of the traditional language of the mystics, which sometimes
misleads even great scholars to take him for a mystic, is a device to make his ideas
appear beautiful. Such a popular and familiar literary medium is all the more
essential when the ideas are novel and unfamiliar.
1001
A History of Muslim Philosophy
In contrast with philosophy, mystic ideas belong essentially to the theme
of love and naturally command for their expression all the paraphernalia of
love poetry. The high sentimentalism of the mystic poets was enough to
ensure for them a strong popular appeal, in consequence of which they came
in for persecution while abu al-'AIa', a lone voice, was left comfortably alone.
Again, we have to note that, significantly enough, the popularity of mystic
poetry survived all questioning of the orthodoxy of its contents and even
the attacks on the person of the mystics. But the excessive sentimentalism
of the mystic poetry centring around the beatific vision is such as to have
a lamentably adverse effect on the search for clear, practical ideal of life and
the urge to realize it through activity. The passivity of an intoxicated visionary,
as opposed to the ardent activity of a devoted missionary, formed the key-
note of it.
Formal Panegyric— Apart from the lighter side of the life in the privacy
of the palace, which was shared and recorded by the nadlm-poet, there were
many formal occasions and official assemblies at the Court when the emphasis
was on decorum and dignity. On such occasions it was the strictly conventional
form of the madih, the qasidah, which was in vogue. In view of the rigidity
of its forms already noted, it is no surprise that it required the highest skill
to handle it with success. In any case, the monotony of the stereotype could
only be made up with hyperbole and rhetorical tropes of all kinds. Some
pedantic display of logic and philosophy was also introduced as a novelty.
As these formal panegyrics were designed in the manner of the party press
of our own day to exalt the powers that be in the eyes of the public, naturally
enough they were replete with references to the political ideology — often
bound up with specific religious belief and dogma — of the ruling dynasty as,
for example, the claims of the 'Abbasids vis-a-vis the 'Alids. But, while there
were scores of those who for sordid gain served as mere trumpeters, there
was no dearth of those who spoke from conviction. And in fairness it must
be said that the conscientious objectors on the side of the opposition were
given a long rope only if they had the courage to forgo the patronage of
the Court.
It was also in this traditional form fit for themes of grandeur and no levity
that the incidents of the wars were pictured. They came to be particularly
relished by the Bedouin spirit of the Hamdanids under the shadow of the
Crusades. Another theme cognate with it was that of the prison-poems (al-
habslyyat) best represented by abu Firas (d. 357/968). They are an impressive
blend of nostalgia for home, pathos of suffering, and indomitable courage.
Complaint against Time (Shakwah al-Zaman). — Perhaps the most depressing
aspect of the poetry of these times is the common expression of
dissatisfaction with one's lot and a feeling of insecurity in respect of life,
property, and position. As undeserving people enjoy wealth and power and
real merit is neglected, nay persecuted, consolation is sought in the acceptance
of this state of affairs as the "way of the world" — the decree of fate beyond
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
the control of man. There was no such dominant note of despondency and
helplessness when the pre-Islamic poet occasionally bemoaned the inscrut-
ability of fate (jadd) and the failure of his hard struggle (jidd) to bring him
the coveted reward. Even in the early days of Islam fate did not appear to
be so arbitrary : when there was dissatisfaction it was directed against 'persons —
tyrants and their dynasties. It is only in the late 'Abbasid period that the
complaint against "Time" 23 became almost a fashion so much so that the
poets simulated it in the same way as they simulated love.
Personal and Occasional Verse. — It was characteristic of the progress
of culture that poetry be sought after as the medium for the communication
of thought and feeling occasioned by the vicissitudes of personal relations
and small incidents in everyday life. The pre-Islamic poet also had frequent
occasions to address his "ibn al- l amm" (cousin) in reprobatory terms, but his
utterances were deep-rooted in the actual matter-of-fact struggle for existence.
The ikhwaniyydt of the period under review constitute a branch of cultivation
of elegance. The difference is the same as between an actual fighter and an
amateur sportsman. The topics range over estrangement, effort at reconcilia-
tion, and tickling and teasing through wit and humour. These categories,
however, appear to be sham when compared with the impressive genuineness
of the pieces relating to incidents in everyday life as, for example, the one
attributed to a literatus who was compelled to part with his collection of
books in a time of adversity. This kind of poetry concerning the unaffected,
natural gushing forth of some poignant feeling or passion aroused by the
actual facts of life reached its full development in Spain in general and in the
verses of al-Mu'tamid in particular. A strong element of genuine enthusiasm
and personal acrimony is also evoked by the rivalry among the diverse national
groups: the Arabs, the Persians, the Turks, the Romans, and the Negroes.
Pride-cum-satire was the popular form of championing one nationality against
the other on the basis of ethnology, history, mental qualities, and cultural
achievements. This must be distinguished from the aspect noted above which
concerned the exaltation of a particular kind of social and cultural life.
Descriptive Poetry. — Beauty no longer remained confined to nature:
there were high mansions, fortified castles, exquisite mosques, and public
buildings, and, above all, public and private gardens, aqueducts and boat-
houses — all claiming attention from the artist and the poet. Even the starlit
sky and the cloudy horizon were endowed with a new charm : to the Bedouin
they gave only a simple impression of awe and induced a mood of little good
cheer; to the Baghdadian who went out for a stroll in the evening they catered
to his desire for the enjoyment of beauty. Thus, the descriptive poetry of this
23 This is the "abuse of time" which is expressly prohibited by the Prophet.
Only he would curse the stars who believes himself to be a passive object under
their blind inexorable influence. Islam, on the other hand, stands for man's active
and dominant role in setting the pattern of life through the instrumentality of the
process of time as ordained by God; cf. Iqbal, Asrar-i Khudi.
1003
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
period, which often monopolizes the larger part of long qaslddhs, is almost
something new. It is exhilarating indeed to find roses being compared to
cheeks and tall cypress to the slim stature of damsels rather than vice versa
as of yore. Flowers in particular were the craze of the tasteful and the elegant,
who even used them as symbols of moods and sentiments in their exchanges
of love. 24 No surprise that the description of flowers (al-zahrlyydt) should
grow into a semi-independent branch of poetry in which al-Sanubari (d. 334/
945) distinguished himself in the East. Yet there is nothing comparable to
the poetry of Spain so far as high sensitivity to nature is concerned. There
the poet not only describes and enjoys nature but also shows himself to be
in communion with it. Another branch of descriptive poetry whieh attained
semi-independent form was al-tardiyydt (venery poems). It also reflected
in ample measure the trappings of luxury and civilization around an old
traditional interest.
Panegyrics on the Prophet (al-Mada'Uj al-Nabawiyyah).— As we have
seen earlier there was no time lost in celebrating the achievements of the
Prophet and composing panegyrics on him in the traditional form and style
of the qasidak. When the Umayyads fanned political partisanship by employ-
ing the poets to denounce their rivals, it evoked a new spirit of selfless devotion
to the cause of the 'Alids, which found its most forceful exponent in al-Kumait.
It soon became a panegyric on the family of the Prophet which was charac-
terized, apart from legal arguments in favour of the 'AM claims, by a good
deal of symbolism of pathos and sufFering drawn from the incidents of history.
A concomitant theme of high general interest was the condemnation of
tyranny, oppression, and misrule coupled with the fervent hope of return
to ideal conditions at the hands of the virtuous Imams. The two sides carried
on the old bout right through the 'Abbasid period during which the 'Alids
continued to be in the wilderness of opposition. In later times when the
political controversy lost a good deal of realism and turned into mere sectarian
ritual, this kind of poetry was taken over into the circles of the Sufis, who
concerned themselves particularly with its content of loyal sentiment and
tragic pathos. These Sufi composers, it will be remembered, were seldom men
of high literary attainments nor did they care to examine facts and rely on
them alone. Rather they would introduce all sorts of superstition which would
feed sentimentalism. A famous example of this kind is the -pseudo- Burdah
of al-Biisiri (died 694/1294-95) which, though not devoid of literary elegance,
is typical of superstitious belief and is esteemed primarily for its supposed
magical properties.
The framework of these panegyrics being that of the traditional qastdah,
the essential prelude of erotic verses was there. It was, however, observed as
a convention that in this particular context "love" should be characterized
by restraint and dignity rather than "licence." For example, it was speci-
1 See the interesting treatise on elegant manners by al-Washsha' (Leiden, 1887).
1004
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
fically disallowed to mention a male object of love or to refer to the hips or
the charm of the naked shin among the physical attractions. It will be seen
that this only confirms the thesis advanced earlier that erotic interest in
woman (without licence) was no offence to Muslim piety.
Still later when originality became rarer the form and the theme of the
panegyric on the Prophet were used for the demonstration of one's skill in
rhetorical tropes; such qasldahs were designated the badl'lyyat. That kind
of play with words is, of course, beyond the purview of poetry proper.
Adaptation of Metre and Diction.— It was indicated at the very begin-
ning that the metrical forms handed down by the pre-Islamic poets continued
to hold their own throughout the classical period. We have only to review
the adaptation of these forms to the demands of new developments in theme
and style. First, there was the preference of short, flexible metres and then,
with the dethronement of the madih, the tendency to short pieces devoted to
single or closely allied themes. However, the only departure from the tradition
with regard to the qdfiyah was the adoption from the Persian of the muzdawaj,
i.e., tenzon with each verse having a separate rhyme for its two hemistiches
(instead of the whole poem having a single rhyme for the endings of each
verse). This was the form attributed to the Zoroastrian scriptural psalms
whieh the zindiq poets were charged with reciting in secret. And obviously
this was the form best suited for the epic which, because of its length, made
it well-nigh impossible to sustain one single rhyme-ending. But though the
form of the epic narrative (al-shi'r al-qasafyy) was found, the Arabic poets
failed to achieve anything remarkable in the field from an aesthetic view-
point. The early pioneers, ibn al-Mu'tazz and al-Khuraimi, were tolerably
good in picturing national calamities but unfortunately it was now reduced
to a mere mnemonic versification of the chronicles of kings and dynasties
without anything of genuine poetry about it.
No sooner did the need to please the vanity of the patron disappear than
the diction tended to be unaffected, soft, sweet, and naturally fit for the
theme and the content. Abu al-'Atahiyah, himself a pitcher-seller, succeeded
particularly well in employing the simple language of the common people
without any loss of standards. On the other hand, this trend towards the
natural and the unaffected suffered some degeneration at the hands of the
libertine poets like Bashshar, who did not mind effeminacy and the verbatim
reproduction of the idiom of the sporting women in the private company of
lovers.
Strophic Verse.— It is quite understandable that the need for strophic
verse should arise as soon as music and dancing were introduced in Arabia
consequent upon the Islamic conquest of Persia. Al-Khalil has left behind a
few verses which are like a formula for the rhythmic beating of the feet. 25
Further, the attempt to evolve an artistic form for the special purposes of
» Vide Risalat al-Ohufran, p. 183.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
music and dance took the direction of adaptation of the old tradition rather
than a complete innovation. The full length of a poem was divided into
parts consisting of two or more verses, each part having a different single
rhyme for its several hemistiches but all the parts followed by the repetition
of a particular verse with a rhyme of its own and thus held together as if by
a string {Ar. simt; hence the device called al-tasmU). This evolution must
have taken place at a very early period since it is ascribed without certainty
to Imru' al-Qais. It was the same device which was employed to take greater
liberties with rhyme {and also metre) in Spain under the name of al-muwash-
shah (from wishdh meaning girdle). Later when the colloquial dialect was
fully admitted to this form it came to be known as the zajal. Thus it came to
be an artistic form just free enough to be within the easy comprehension and
unsophisticated taste of all, yet devoid of none of the essentials of traditional
art. From Spain it was brought to Egypt and the East and achieved a high
degree of popularity. There were still more spontaneous forms of atrophic
verse in which the street vendors and the like moulded their cries but in all
cases the qafiyah was fully relished and the variety of it in different strophes
was compensated with the uniformity of the refrain, in between them.
B
PROSE
The earliest specimens of Arabic prose coming down to us from the pre-
Islamic times fall into the following categories : —
1 ,' Proverbs,
2. Oracular sayings,
3. Orations, and
4. Accounts of battles and stories of love, adventure, and entertainment.
Except for the last category the form in vogue was unmistakably epigram-
matic and highly condensed, consisting of short, cadenced and loosely rhymed
sentences. This form was quite in conformity with the morphology of the
language and the peculiar temperament of the Arab, particularly in view of
his reliance on memory alone for preservation and transmission. No surprise
that whatever did not conform to this requirement of form was simply allowed
to go by the board.
The oracular sayings were almost lacking in any content whatsoever: if
the oracle excelled in anything it was mere adroitness in ambiguity. The most
remarkable from the viewpoint of the content were, of course, the proverbs,
of which the few highly suggestive words often symbolized a whole story
deep-rooted in the simple Bedouin life. Hence they were early recognized as
a source, second only to poetry, for the knowledge of the history, manners,
customs, and superstitions of the pre- Islamic Arabs. In subsequent periods
also, there was a remarkable curiosity to pick up pithy and suggestive lines
1006
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
and phrases from poetry and prose and to pass them round in speech and
writing. Thus, the stock of proverbs, which in Arabic include idioms and
phrases in common use, never ceased increasing and receiving variety from
the changes in the pattern of life. Often they mirrored the experiences, com-
plimentary and otherwise, of contacts between the various nationalities.
The orations were designed for actual needs arising out of war-like tribal
activity or communal social relationships. Though prose, however exquisite,
was always rated as a lesser form of art, there is no doubt that oration had
sufficiently developed into a recognized literary medium. It would also be
justified to assume that sermonizing for its own sake, as, for example, on wise
conduct and good behaviour, had come into vogue.
The evening get-together in the courtyard, generally under the auspices
of some generous dignitary, is the age-old manifestation of the Arab instinct
for communal social life. The importance of this feature in the hard, matter-
of-fact life in the inhospitable desert cannot be over-emphasized. It is also
quite understandable that the main diversion on this occasion should be a
round of talks on events and anecdotes bound up either with historical curi-
osity or common interest in love and adventure. The contents of this samar
can be easily distinguished as (a) the narratives of the battles of the Arabs,
(b) stories of love and adventure of Arabian provenance, and (c) stories
borrowed from foreign sources. Some traces of the beast-fable have also been
found scattered here and there. Nevertheless, pure fables were seldom a flair
of the Arab mind even in subsequent times. Naturally enough, this evening
talk was couched in simple informal language with emphasis on content
rather than on elegance of word, and the way in which it has been recorded
by the scholars of early Islam can at best be described as quotation from the
speech of the narrator.
Influence of the Qur'an and the Hadith.— The unique position of the
Qur'an as the first book in Arabic has already been noted. It for the first
time made the Arabs fully aware of the potentialities of prose as an artistic
form. Still more important in another way was the normative influence of
the Hadith. It is certainly wrong to assume that the influence of the Qur'an
was in any way circumscribed by its claim to inimitability because even an
unattainable ideal is always potent enough to set the direction of effort in
the future. But, of course, there was an air of formality about the Qur'an.
On the other hand, the Hadith represented the model of effortless, everyday
speech— simple, terse, to the point, efficacious of purpose, and interspersed
with flashes of vivacity and humour. The most important general contribution
of both the Qur'an and the Hadith was to drive home the primordial need
for setting an aim and a purpose in speech and composition and making both
the content and the word fit and conform to the same. The new outlook on
literary beauty as related to a definite purpose represented a radical change
from the old tradition of aimless talk — "the wandering into every valley"
(Qur'an) — and gave birth to a mental discipline which is the hallmark of
A History of Muslim Philosophy
the orations and the epistolary compositions of early Islam. The official cor-
respondence of the early Caliphs and their addresses on different occasions
of war, legislation, and administration are all marked by a simple and direct
style flowing naturally from high concentration on purpose and thus surpassing
all art. Yet they show all the dignity of authority. It will be remembered
that orations and epistles were the two branches of literary composition which
were specially favoured in early Islam by the needs of administration as well
as congregational activity and social life. They only underwent a portentous
change at the hands of the Persian secretaries, who introduced in the Arab
chanceries all the fanfare of the Sassanian Court by way of pompous language
and grandiose style.
Early Works on Adab (Belles-lettres). — The early literary activity (apart
from poetry) concerned itself mainly with compilation and narration rather
than personal creation. The scholars and the students were content with
collections of texts and explanations of important pieces of poetry, proverbs,
orations, sayings of prophets and wise men, historical narratives, and witti-
cism — all considered to be the necessary equipment of polite education and
moral instruction. These collections were like packets in which the knowledge
of their compilers was lumped together without any systematic arrangement
or classification, the compilers themselves contributing only a few comments
here and there. Only ibn Qutaibah (d. 276/889-90) introduced some order
into the invaluable chaos.
The beginning of original production was closely bound up with an interest
in man and his natural surroundings. Curiously enough, this interest was
roused by the rivalry among the various nationalities within the 'Abbasid
Empire. The political and social conditions of the time promoted interesting,
even though acrimonious, discourses on the characteristics — physical, tem-
peramental, and cultural — of the peoples of different lands as exhibited in
their current behaviour and past history. Al-Jahiz(d. 255/868-69), one of the
first Mu'tazilites to study the Greek naturalists, endowed these discourses
with the superb literary form of causerie or short tract characterized by a
combination of erudition and artistic skill with the spirit of reliance on facts
of observation and history rather than on speculative deductions. Thus, highly
scientific data, worthy of a Darwin, relating to the processes of adaptation
between man and nature, came to form the theme of high literature and art.
Al-Jabiz's "Book on Animals" (Kitab al-Hayawan), a fine specimen of the
wedlock between art and science, is a definite gain to literature and a high
compliment to the general culture of the time. Only one is left wondering
whether science would not have prospered better by an early separation
from its charming companion.
Popular Anecdote. — Beyond the circle of scholars and students the
interest of the common people lay in the anecdote couched in simple, un-
sophisticated language. They sought fight entertainment by listening to stories
of love or adventure or a blend of both. Apart from the pre-Islamic lore, the
1008
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
wars of Islamic conquest lay handy for the purpose and were specially suited
to satisfy at the same time religious fervour, national pride, and the instinctive
love of adventure. There is ample evidence to show that the conquests were
actually the subject of a saga which, however, could enter the books only
surreptitiously. Two other streams contributed to the fund of anecdotes in
the early Islamic period: first, the South Arabian lore in which the Umay-
yads took particular interest as part of the glorification of the Arabs, and,
secondly, the Jewish religious lore which was widely and indiscriminately drawn
upon by the qassas (religious sermonizers). None of these stories, however, could
find artistic presentation because the regard for historical truth prevented
their incorporation in book form: the dangers which were guarded against
are illustrated by the corruptions that evaded detection and are found today
here and there. Even when they were collected in book form at a very late
period they continued to be regarded below the dignity of a scholar. Of
course, the stories of love which were not liable to be mixed up with religion
and history were given freer admittance to the literary circles, but even
these (e. g., the story of the ideal love of Majnun or the profane love of Waddah
al-Yaman) were recalled only with reference to poetry and seldom took any
definite artistic form in prose. Whatever form these popular stories possess
has only been achieved effortlessly through common repetition.
Story Cycles. — The indigenous stories of love alluded to above were
simple incidents which could not keep the attention of the samar-hungry
audience for any considerable time. As town life grew, the need was felt for
cycles of stories or stories within a story, separate yet interconnected with
a string plot which would keep the curiosity on its edge for as long as "Thou-
sand and One Nights." This need was met, in the first instance, by import
from Persia, which had long been known to be the storehouse for such stories.
The Persian afsdnah, the prototype of the Arabic story cycles, had passion,
wonder, and surprise as the keynotes of its content; it is the quest for the
wonderful and the surprising which brings in supernatural elements and magic
to heighten the effects of adventure, and treachery and moral depravity to
enhance love. This element of wilful selection and exaggeration of the unusual
in actual life should not be overlooked in making any sweeping generalizations
in regard to the state of society. The overtone is particularly deceptive in
regard to historical personalities as, for example, Harun al-Rashid, who,
though he indulged in luxury and sensuous pleasure in private fife, would
never allow any lapse from dignity and moral propriety in public. It was
perhaps in the original core of Hazar Afsdnah itself that popularly idealized
historical personalities were woven into the texture with a view to imparting
a touch of reality to the fiction. Yet it is remarkable that this particular
branch, as contrasted with that of Kalilah wa Dimnah, was successfully
cultivated at Baghdad and Cairo. The anonymous rnaddahs went on dressing
up the borrowed material and augmenting it with their own creation until
the whole stock was moulded into a more or less fixed but sufficiently polished
1009
A History of Muslim Philosophy
form. The professionals, whose job was gradually reduced to vocal performance,
often to the accompaniment of simple instrumental music, circulated and
transmitted the stock by oral tradition among themselves until it was redacted
in book form in about the ninth/fifteenth century. The form and the content
of these story cycles would be better appreciated if it is constantly kept in
view that they were never meant to be read; they were recited to an audience
seeking mental relaxation rather than intellectual satisfaction. They were
designed simply to amuse and not to popularize or criticize any particular
view of society. Rather the surmise is that they were secretly helped into
circulation by the powers that were interested in turning the attention of
the masses away from political and social problems. Hence all the emphasis
is on the tempo of action to the subservience of everything else. Further, in
the very nature of circumstances, the style and the diction could only be such
as were regarded elegant and interesting by the standards and taste of the
common people. It really reflects very well on the common culture of those
days when people could learn how to appreciate and enjoy elegance of language
in their ordinary social surroundings without necessarily studying at school.
But after all the story cycles were never regarded as a piece of literature
(adab) and were never read and taught by scholars as such. It was only in
the West that the scholars thought it worthwhile to devote time to the Alf
Lailah wa Lailah.
The Siratu 'Antar, another notable work of the same class, bears the impress
of conscious art, its texture being loose-rhymed prose embroidered with some
ten thousand verses. In point of content, a hero of the pre-Islamic times is
made to live through five hundred years of Islam down to the Crusades,
personifying in himself all the chivalry of the famous knights of Islamic
history as well as the legends of the Persian epic. It sprang into popularity
in the tense atmosphere of the Crusades and represents fully the peculiar
temperament of the time.
High-class Fiction.— It will be seen from the preceding two paragraphs
that the imagination of the Muslim masses, like that of the masses of any
other people, was strongly tempted to dramatize history and to develop the
hard core of facts into fabulous stories. But such a pursuit was totally barred
to a Muslim scholar by his high sense of intellectual honesty and academic
responsibility cognate with the sanctimonious regard for religious purity. As
fiction was disdained and frowned upon by the cultured, it was condemned
and relegated to the circles of the common people. Pure fiction, which
posed no danger of distortion to valuable fact, was quite welcome in literary
circles. But, again, the literati were earnest people who would relish a fable
only if it had some moral import in the manner of the stories of the Qur'an.
It will, however, be observed that the reliance of the Qur'an on the known
incidents of history, rather than fables, to point a moral is highly significant
as being in full accord with the peculiar temperament of the Arab. Not
that the Arab was weak in imagination; he only considered it somewhat
Arabic Literature: Poetic and Prose Forms
childish to invent fictitious tales, which is best evidenced by the clear absence
of a mythology even in the pre-Islamic days. He was indeed very fond of
moralizing but would do so only through direct, pithy, and pointed proverbial
sayings supported by illustrations from real life. The style of the Qur'an in
this respect stands in sharp contrast with that of the sacred books of India,
which seek to convey the truth mainly through fables. Thus, it was only
when highly cultured Persians consecrated themselves to the service of
Arabic that the treasures of the Indo-Persian tradition were transferred
into this language. As these were mere translations, their contents do not
belong to Arabic: only the use of the artistic form of Arabic for this kind
of composition was a notable innovation. The rendering of the Kalllah wa
Dimnah by ibn al-Muqaffa' was designed to be read by the educated
class who relished it for its moralizing on the conduct of private and public
affairs. It was warmly appreciated as a novelty and versified more than once,
but the attempts at imitation of the model failed to achieve any considerable
measure of success. Thus, pure fiction too, like the fanciful encrustment of
history and religion, fell to the lot of the common people who indulged in
it for sheer amusement.
The unproductivity of the Arab-Islamic milieu, so far as high-class fiction
is concerned, has only to be viewed by the side of unparalleled success in the
preservation of the religious texts, the scrupulous eschewing of the subjective
element in historical annals, and the evolution of a full-fledged science for
establishing the authenticity of a text with reference to the character of the
narrator. In short, the learned and the scholarly devoted themselves to check-
ing the rampancy of the imagination of the unlettered rather than giving
free reins to their own fancy. Further, the authority of the Sharl'ah left no
need for any emotional pleading or intellectual canvassing by dramatization
of social problems; hence the absence of the story or the novel except for
literary and philosophical themes.
Literary Epistle (Risalah) and Rhetorical Maqamah. — The extraordinary
interest in linguistic studies provided a scholar in early Islam with
a vast fund of vocabulary and usage as well as a sense of elegance and beauty
in expression. He, however, waited for events and occasions in actual fife
to put his knowledge and skill to use ; hence the absence of any prose form
other than the oration and the epistle. The disputations on the merits of the
various nationalities and different classes of people brought into vogue for
a while the short topical essay. But the natural, forthright style soon started
soaring high at the hands of the Persian scribes until it became thoroughly
inflated and encumbered. To this encumbrance the Christian scribes further
added the embellishment of saj\ and the over-played art degenerated into
tiresome gymnastics. There was, however, some expansion in the range of the
epistlecum-essay writing, which opened up a welcome outlet for literary skill.
Tracts on the rules of good conduct were very popular, some of which on
Persian model were meant specially for kings, while others were addressed to all
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
classes. Similarly, there was a plethora of manuals of instruction through which
all men of consequence were eager to communicate their wisdom. But the most
important branch conducted merely for the sake of pleasure was "letters"
addressed to fellow-scholars and patrons touching upon purely academic and
literary problems. Pride and rivalry helped to impart zest to such a pursuit.
The style was high-flown and ornate with the obtrusive aim of pedantry. A
further development of this tradition of the literary epistle (al-risdlah) was
the maqdmah, which represents perhaps the first attempt to invent a loose
framework of picaresque romance for the display of one's literary knowledge
and skill. The idea must have been suggested by the presence of a real character
in the Arabicized Persian society of the time — a witty and somewhat un-
scrupulous prodigy of letters, devoid of patronage from high-ups and loth to
engage himself in any lucrative work, thus compelled to shift for him self
by roving from town to town and "begging" by the public display of feats
of improvization on the interesting and instructive situations of life. The
emphasis is, no doubt, on an exhibition of linguistic virtuousity but there is
throughout a vein of witticism which is sometimes employed for parodying
society, manners, and peoples. As this form came to be the dominant one in
Arabic prose, a large variety of it depicting incidents and situations con-
cerning particular classes such as the 'uktma' and the lovers, was success-
fully attempted in every age. It has throughout remained a typically indigenous
product, specially suited to the equipment and training of the Arabic scholar
as alluded to above.
Development of the Story for Literary Theme. — The significance of the
maqdmah lay in the Arabic scholar at last condescending to create out of
imagination the framework of a story, however short and undeveloped, with
a view to displaying his profuse but pent-up literary skUK For the newly
released fancy abu al-'AIa' al-Ma'arri borrowed the wings of the popular
traditions relating to the Prophet's Ascension (al-mi'raj) to the heavens.
His Risalat al- Ghufrdn is really a maqdmah cycle under the overall covering
of a risalak. The story is no more than a frail show-case to display the author's
store of knowledge, just a device to string together a series of expositions of
problems and judgments relating to poetry, literature, and grammar. As the
author was also a philosopher and a critical observer of beliefs and practices,
he brought out the witticism characteristic of the maqdmah for an audacious
burlesque of contemporary state of learning and society, which imparted a
unique quality to the work. The style excelled only in pedantry and artificial
beauty. Yet the review of the entire field of literature, beliefs, morals, and
manners in the course of an imaginary flight remained the high-watermark
of the traditional Arabic scholarship.
Story for the Philosophical Theme. — The philosophical romance of ibn
Tufail (d. 580/1184) entitled Hayy Bin Yaqzdn is a complete surprise in Arabic
literature in more than one way. Here for the first time we have the plot
as the main concern of the author. Sufficient attention is also paid to
Arabic Literature : Poetic and Prose Forms
characterization and setting. The style is subordinated to the theme. It will be
recalled that the general body of Muslim philosophers had been confronted
with a two-fold problem: the capability of reason to attain to reality
unaided by revelation, and the identity of reality notwithstanding the
difference in the source and the categories of knowledge imparted by
religion. Soon intuition, the fortius gaudens, achieved a lasting victory over
both. On the one hand, it established its claim to be the essence of religion
and, on the other, it was recognized as the higher form of philosophy. The
importance of the latter development, which was by far the greater victory,
has not often been fully appreciated. It was a momentous step indeed to
accept intuition as part of a man's natural equipment, cognate with reason,
for the "realization" of truth. Anyway, it was for the purpose of explaining
all these points together that the philosophers conjured up the vision of a
Solitary Man, cut oif from all knowledge of religion yet attaining to a vision
of God through the proper use and development of his faculties alone.
Historical Writing. — The Arabic historian was solely concerned with
the preservation of authentic records. He would not digest the facts and
attempt at their reconstruction and interpretation for the reader. The merit
of a historian like al-Tabari (d. 310/922-23) lay only in the extent and variety
of his information ; his own personality could be discerned only in the indica-
tion here and there of a preference for one of the several versions of a particular
event. This self-imposed restraint on the part of the historian, like the similar
scruples of the adab producer, betokened only high devotion to truth nurtured
by the traditions of religious sciences. As a matter of fact, it proved to
be a valuable asset in eliminating, so to say, the middlemen, and enabling
all posterity to get a purely objective view of the past. Even when the annalistic
framework was not strictly adhered to and the method of topical historio-
graphy was initiated by al-Mas'udi (d. 345/956-57) the style continued to be
dominated by reporting. However, this deliberate suppression of the personal
element contributed to the lack of any prose form for historical writing.
Such development had to wait till the beginning of the eighth/fourteenth
century when ibn al-Tiqtaqa produced his book al-Fahhri. Keeping in view
the fact of its being an innovation, the success achieved was remarkable.
A lucid and fluent yet brilliant style is applied to carefully selected facts
combined with appropriate comments. But again thi3 admirable example was
not sufficiently followed up. Bather the main development, from which ibn
al-Tiqtaqa revolted consciously, had already proceeded far on the lines of
the transference and application of the epistolary style — grand and verbose,
as already noted — to historiography. It was fortunate indeed that this style
was carried to palpable absurdity quite early by al-'Utbi (d. 427/1035-36). It
was decisively rejected by the Arab taste only to find favourable development
in Persian. Court patronage of the historians also brought in the need for
flattery and exaggeration, but it must be said in fairness that the historian
did not absolve himself totally of regard for truth in the manner of poets.
1013
A History of Muslim Philosophy
On the whole, the style of the official amanuenses and the Court historians of
the late 'Abbasid period belongs to the same genre.
The best examples of Arabic historical prose, both in regard to form and
content, are the private memoirs of personal experiences of war and peace
like the Kitdb al-Ftibar of 'Uthman ibn Munqidh (d. 584/1188-89), and the
accounts of travels. In the latter class of works one finds not only observation
and effective narration but also the author's own appraisal of personalities
and events in the light of history and contemporary society. Generally, the
style is simple and natural and even where art is displayed, as in the case
of ibn Jubair (d. 614/1217-18), it is not overplayed at the expense of the
content. Al-Ghazali's al-Munqidh min al-Dalal forms a class by itself— an
autobiographical account of mental conflict and spiritual quest written with
such, simplicity and naturalness as defy all art.
Influence on the TF&st— Looking in retrospect over the entire field of
Arabic prose and poetry, the general reader will not fail to be struck particu-
larly with a few features which stand out prominently. First, there is the
perfect symmetry, so characteristic of all Muslim art, the unfaltering rhythm,
and the regular rhyme which at once give the general impression of order,
system, and exquisiteness in the construction of the verse. Secondly, there
is the entire scheme of romantic love as embodied in the tradition of the
ghazai. It is not fully appreciated, especially among the Muslims who
take it as a matter of course, how much the Islamic outlook on woman and
sex relationship has to do with the sentimental romantic love. Love as an
art can only flourish in a society where the company of woman is sublimated
into a virtue. A further condition for the growth of romanticism is the
recognition of certain ethical rules for courtship, a certain idealization of
restraint. Such restraint is only symbolic of awe for the independent will of a
separate individuality (best exemplified in the economic rights of women in
Islam) coupled with a tenderly appreciation— so different from lustful
exploitation— of the frailty and delicacy of the feminine constitutional and
sentimental make-up. In the blind fervour of the extremist revolt against
the denial of human rights to women in the West, this last basis of all chivalry
and romance is much liable to be forgotten. Anyway, it was these two fea-
tures—the exquisite form and the romantic contentn-of the Andalusian
poetry which impressed the troubadours of Provence so deeply. Needless to
say that lyrical poetry of romantic love had a special development in Spain
so as to become unique even in Arabic. In the same way the strophic verse
blossomed in Spain as nowhere else. The tradition, however, goes back to
the Umayyad ghazai with Islam intervenning between it and the frank hedon-
ism of the jahillyyah.
Turning to prose, one finds Arabic offering, at its best, aphorisms, apologues,
popular fables characterized by the spirit of adventure, and picaresque
romance (maqamah). Actually, these were the very curiosities which achieved
a ready success in medieval Europe through oral transmission and book
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
translation. It was not very appropriate indeed that works like the Arabian
Nights, which were meant only for recital in the market-place, were read in
book form in Europe. This was bound to produce a certain revulsion at a
later period when they were found to be devoid of the finer elements of literary
art. Anyhow, "orientalism" — :a touch of the fabulous, the wonderful, and the
exotic— entered the thought-processes of the European writers and poets.
Still more important is the percolation of some of the higher devices resting
on characteristically Islamic traditions like the mVraj into the Divina Corn-
media and the Solitary Man into Robinson Crusoe.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Ibn Khaldun, Mttqaddimah; Jurji Zaidan, Tarikh al-Adab al- c Arabiyyah; Ahmad
Amin, Fajr al-Islam, Duha al-Islam, and Zuhr al-Islam; Taha Husain, Hadith
al-Arba'ah, Parts I and II ; Zaki Mubarak, al-Mada'ih al-Nabawiyyah, Cairo, 1935;
H. A. R. Gibb, "Literature," The Legacy of Islam.
Chapter LI
ARABIC LITERATURE: GRAMMAR AND LEXICOGRAPHY
GRAMMAR
The intellectual activity of the early Muslims stemmed directly from their
devotion to religion. The Arabs had throughout been sensitively proud of
their language ; contacts with foreigners were regarded by them as derogatory to
pure Arabism. However, before Islam any corruption of the dialect was
but a social drawback; after Islam any lapse from the norm inevitably led
to distortion of the sacred text with dire consequences both in this as well
as in the next world. Curiously enough, it was Islam itself which brought about
the commingling of the Arabs with the non- Arabs on a vast and unprecedented
scale. In the very second decade of the Hijrah the Arabs were carried on the
crest of a wave of military conquests across the bounds of their homeland
to settle down in the neighbouring countries of Iraq, Persia, Syria, and Egypt.
At the same time there was a large influx of aliens, mostly prisoners of war,
into the principal towns — Makkah and Madinah — of Arabia itself. Before long
there appeared for the first time in history a considerable and growing number
of neophytes seeking initiation into Arab society with a conscious effort to
learn, imbibe, and serve that new religious culture which was only couched in
Arabic and had its prototype in Arab milieu. Naturally enough, the inaptitude
1015
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of these neophytes in the use of the Arabic tongue excited the laughter of the
younger folk in Arab households; it also shocked the elders as it amounted
to inadvertent profanity and distortion of the Qur'anic verses. 1 The corruptive
effects on the new generation of the Arabs— the townsmen among them—
were no less disconcerting; the daily usages marked a sharp decline from the
Qur'anic idiom. Thus, there is little doubt that about the middle of the first
century of the Hijrah the Muslims were squarely face to face with their fore-
most literary problem, viz., the need for the preservation of the Qur'an.
The Arabs needed reinforcing their own natural way of speech with a discipline
of conscious effort; they were also eager, in keeping with the true spirit of
Islam, to pass on to the myriads of non-Arabs, who daily swelled the ranks
of the faithful, not only the religion and the practices of Islam but also the
language as a key to a first-hand knowledge of its primary source or sources. 2
Actually, however, only a few of the Arabs concerned themselves with those
branches of studies which involved the use of the method of qiyas, i.e.,
analogy and deduction. 3 Such creative intellectual activity was notably a flair
of the non-Arab inhabitants of Iraq, which province occupied a unique
position in the incipient literary life of Islam. It is worthwhile recalling that
the province had been the cradle of ancient civilizations and the nursery of
cultural currents from the Hellenes, including those relayed from the important
academy at Jundi-Shapur; hence, the mental attitudes of its inhabitants bore
the stamp of philosophical and scientific discipline. Still more remarkable was
the spirit motivating the political relationship of these "intellectuals" with
their proud and unlettered masters, the Arabs, and their peculiar religious
and cultural propensities towards Islam and the Arabic language. In contrast
with Syria and Egypt, it will be seen that the 'Ajamis of Iraq were from the
very beginning determined to assert their own individuality, albeit only within
the pale of Islam and on the ground of Arabs' own devotion to the Arabic
language. Even the Shu'ubivyah movement, the outburst of an outraged
sense of superiority of the Persians over the Arabs, involved no resilience from
loyalty to the language of the Qur'an. It was a clear parallel to early Shi'ism.
which was calculated to work out the political ascendancy of the Persians
but only under the supreme and authoritarian overlordship of the House of
the Arabian Prophet. Basrah and Kufah, the two cantonments of the Arabs,
provided ideal conditions for fruitful contact between the Arabs and the
non- Arabs. Of particular importance was the proximity of the two towns to
the northern Arabian desert, long regarded as the preserve of the linguistic
1 This is amply borne out by the different versions of what prompted abu
al-Aswad al-Du'ali to turn to grammar.
2 It is noteworthy that abu al-Aswad al-Du'ali, who showed himself genuinely
anxious to help the non-Arabs learn Arabic and Islam, did so in spite of his
jealousy of their prosperity and influence. There was not the slightest trace of
any tendency among the Arabs to sit Brahman-like over the treasures of religious
knowledge.
3 This applies equally to grammar and to al-ra'i in the realm of Fiqh.
1016
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
norm, and the market-place of al-Mirbad — on the outskirts of Basrah — was
no less a close-by rendezvous of the A'rab (Bedouin Arabs of the desert)
and the literati until the former, becoming aware of the demand, themselves
came to offer their linguistic materials to the ilite of Iraq and western
Persia.
According to the classical tradition, it was abu al-Aswad (Zalim b. 'Amr)
al-Du'ali (or al-Dili), a poet, warrior, and teacher (died in 69/688-89 at the age
of 85), who took the first step to stem the tide of growing laxity and error
in the use of the Arabic tongue. He was an active partisan of 'Ali in politics
and actually fought against Mu'awiyah at Siffin. It is, therefore, no surprise
that he should take pride in claiming that the rudiments of Arabic grammar
were confided to him by 'Ali. This assertion can safely be dismissed as only
an instance of the too frequent attempt to trace all learning to 'Ali, the "Gate-
way of the City of Knowledge." It is also true that abu al-Aswad himself
cannot be credited with having worked out the fundamentals of Arabic
grammar as such. 4 But it is reasonably certain that he did institute some-
thing which, to later historians of the development of grammar, appeared
to be the genesis of it. Let us examine what it actually was. Till the time
with which we are concerned, the Arabic script, originally taken over from the
Syriac-Nabataean writing, remained without a system of i'rdb, i.e., vowel-
marks. Nor was there any established practice as to i'jam, i.e., diacritical
marks, to distinguish letters of similar shape. Of course, there was no urgent
need for either so long as the main dependence was on memory and writing
was regarded as a mere casual help. 6 In the context of the new demands made
by the change in the social pattern, the alert and acute mind of abu al-Aswad
realized the inadequacy of the written consonantal letter to evoke the correct
unmarked vowel, which had ceased to come natural as of yore. He, therefore,
must have been the first to conceive the idea of introducing some further aid
to make the people "know and observe correct speech." It appears that at
first the innovation was opposed by Ziyad b. Abihi, the Governor of Basrah,
with whose sons abu al-Aswad might have discussed it. After some time,
however, all conceded that it was absolutely needed and abu al-Aswad went
forward to lay down the following system :
(i) the vowel "a," the pronunciation of which needs a full upward opening
(fathah) of the mouth, to be marked with a dot above a letter.
(ii) the vowel "i," the pronunciation of which needs a little downward
movement (kasrah) of the mouth, to be marked with a dot below the
letter.
4 Encyclopaedia of Islam, "Abu al-Aswad."
5 In the Islamic literary tradition, the written book long continued to serve
merely as an aide memoire — a copy of what was preserved in memory and not
A History of Muslim Philosophy
(iii) the vowel "u," the pronunciation of which needs a rounded closing
(dammah) of the lips, to be marked with a dot in front of the letter. 6
This system of dots is to be seen in one of the oldest copies of the Qur'an
dated 77/696, now preserved in the National Library at Cairo. The text on
parchment is in black, while the vowel-dots are in red, in accordance with
the usual practice. It has been noted that a similar system of dots was in use
in the writing of Syriac, and, though abu al-Aswad's contacts with the Syrians
are not expressly alluded to, it stands more than probable that having realized
the urgency he turned round and took the cue from his compatriots of the Syrian
Christian Church. 7
It is also possible, as some reports make out, that abu al-Aswad went a
step further to propound some broad distinctions in the main parts of a sentence
such as the subject and the predicate. On the whole, however, his contribution
was merely to focus attention on the usage of vowel-endings as the distinctive
characteristic of Arabic. Hence, observation of vowel-endings was desig-
nated al-'Arabiyyah, i.e., the art of speech in the correct and characteristic
Arab way. The use of vowel-endings itself was known as al-i'rab, i.e., rendering
into the proper Arabic way. 8 The al-'Arabiyyah was undoubtedly an embryonic
form of Arabic grammar.
The emphasis on al-'Arabiyyah, grew in proportion to the need for saving
the Qur'an from being consigned to antiquity. So far the method used was
mere talqln, i.e., putting the particulars in the mouth of the pupil. Only the
necessary terms and signs for indicating the different vowels in speech and
writing had been devised. As yet there was no ta'Ul or reasoning on the basis
of general principles governing the incidence of the i'rab. But certainly the
i'rab was under intense and searching observation, from which it was not a
far step to collecting a number of analogous examples and inducting from
them some rules for general guidance. This was the beginning of the discovery
6 It will be remarked that the other synonymns such as nasb, jarr, and raf
also refer to the same varied movement of the mouth. Closely parallel to the Arabic
terms are the Persian equivalents : zlr, zabar, and pish.
7 The Syrian Christians of the West had another system, first introduced in
second/eighth century, in which letters of the Greek alphabet (five altogether;
Y, E, H, O, A), instead of the dots, were used as vowel-marks. At some later
dete, not exactly ascertained, the Arabs also replaced the dots with letters of
their own alphabet albeit in an abbreviated form: .n from |, — from <s (some-
what doubtful), and 2. from j. Obviously, the change must have been necessitated
by the use of dots for diacritical marks along with their use for vowel-marks.
The diacritical marks are said to have been brought into somewhat systematic
use at the behest of al-Hajjaj b. Yiisuf, the Governor of Iraq, by Nasr b. 'Asim
(d. 89/708), who, remarkably enough, is also reckoned as one of the founders of
Arabic grammar. For some time the two kinds of dots were distinguished by the
different colours of the ink. The replacement of the vowel-dots with abbreviations
of |, ts, and j is sometimes ascribed to al-Khalil b. Ahmad, which is supported
by the title Kitah al-Naqt w-al-Shakl among his works.
8 Al-Suyuti, al-Ashbahw-al.Naza'ir, Hyderabad, 1359/1940, I, p. 76.
1018
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
of the logical structure of the language which, in the words of Sarton, was
as much a scientific discovery as, for example, the discovery of the anatomical
structure of the human body. This scientific discovery, the Nahw proper,
reached the proportions of a separate branch of study at Basrah with 'Abd
Allah b. abi Ishaq al-Hadrami (d. 117/736) and his pupil, abu 'Amr 'Isa b.
'Umar al-Thaqafi (d. 149/767). Both the teacher and the pupil were non-
Arab clients (the latter being the client of none other than Khalid b. al-
Walid) who relished putting the Arabs to shame on the score of incorrect
speech. They had a reputation for boldness in 'ilal w-al-qiyds, i.e., induction
of causes from an array of analogous examples. Even in the first flush of
discovery, they were so confident of the principles arrived at that they did
not mind criticizing on their basis the ancient model poets such as al-
Nabighah, not to speak of the contemporary al-Farazdaq. When the latter
composed a Vitriolic satire against his dogmatic critic, ibn abi Ishaq
would only retaliate by pointing out a grammatical mistake even in the
satirical verse. 8 The pupil elaborated the method explicitly, as in discovering
principles which held good generally and in listing the deviations as lughal,
i.e., exceptional usages. And it was he who embodied the results in two books
said to have been the first on the subject.
It must be noted that al-lafyn, i.e., incorrect speech, which gave stimulus
to the thought of abu al-Aswad, had by the turn of the first/seventh century
assumed alarming proportions. It had percolated to the ranks of the Mite
of the Court and the administration as well as the circles of the learned such
as the traditionists and the jurists. But the deterioration, far from inducing
an attitude of toleration, gave rise to a strong reaction against what was
regarded almost as a sin, and there was a determined effort not so much
to preserve the purity of the Qur'anic text as to make the ordinary speech
conform to the standards of its idiom. 10 It was at this very time that al-Nahw,
the science of "the proper way of the speech of the Arabs" (ibn Jinni), was
fully recognized as an independent branch of study and the term al-nahivi
became widespread in popular parlance. 11
The Basrah school reached its perfection in the following age, which pro-
duced such giants as al-Khalil and Sibawaihi. Al-Khalil b. Ahmad, a truly
versatile genius of Arab descent (al-Furhudi/al-Farahidi, al-Azdi), whose con-
tribution alone would outweigh the achievement of the host of non-Arabs,
was born in 100/718-19 and died some time between 170/786 and 175/791.
There can be no greater testimony to his high powers of originality than the
discovery of Arabic prosody without any previous pattern, taking his cue
merely from the rhythmic beats of the smith's hammer. No surprise that
after benefiting from the teachings of 'Isa b. 'Umar, he should have been able
to elaborate the framework of Arabic grammar, a framework within which
9 Al-Jumahi, Tabaqat, Dar al-Ma'arif, Cairo, 1952, pp. 16-17.
10 J. Fuck, al- l Arabiyyah (Arabic translation), Cairo, 1951, pp. 26, 65, 74.
11 Ibid., p. 30.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
dl-i'rab could be explained and reasoned out. But al-Khalil cared neither for
fame nor for material gain; it is said of him that he lived in a state of abject
penury while his pupils made a fortune with the learning imbibed from him.
It fell to the lot of his Persian pupil Sibawaihi, 12 who also had direct contact
with 'Isa b. 'Umar, to complete the work of al-Khalil and to arrange and
produce his findings in concrete book form. Sibawaihi (abu Bishr 'Amr b.
'Uthman b. Qanbar), a native of Shiraz who died at the young age of about
forty years in the last quarter of the second century of the Hijrah, really
proved to be another genius for comprehensiveness, if not so much for original-
ity. His Kitab has throughout the ages been regarded as the final word on
Arabic grammar and has become proverbial for its unique position in the
field. Those who followed Sibawaihi right down to the present time could
only comment upon, remove obscurities from, and arrange and rearrange
the materials furnished in the "Book" without adding much to'it.
It has been a vexed question as to whether the main concepts of Arabic
grammar are an indigenous growth or they are traceable to some external
pattern. Modern scholars have stumbled upon casual resemblances such as
those with the Indian Praticakhyas, but they offer no secure ground- for any
assumption of borrowing. It must be remembered that the Arabic grammar
is concerned mainly with the i'rab, which is a peculiarity of the Arabic language
and was actually realized and proudly asserted to be so by the early gram-
marians. Hence, it is no less misleading to make much of the similarity be-
tween the division of a word into ''ism," "fi'l," and "harf" in Arabic and the
analogous categories in Syriac or Greek. Obviously, the Arabic grammarians
had to chalk out and proceed on their own lines and, in fact, they have given
us a fair idea of how they applied their efforts to the problem, which was
peculiarly their own. As hinted earlier, they began by observing the various
positions of the words in a sentence and the particular i'rab taken by them in
those positions. 13 These positions came to be designated by distinctive terms
and certain rules were laid as to the i'rab appropriate for those positions.
These rules went on developing in the direction of reducing further and
further the number of exceptions which would not admit of their general
application. What helped the people of Iraq in this undertaking was a flair
for 'ilal and qiyas, which was exhibited in an equal measure in grammatical
and literary studies as well as in Fiqh and jurisprudence. 14 This flair certainly
12 The reading "Sibuyah" is not supported by comparison with "Niftawaihi,"
which latter is in no doubt because of its occurrence in the rhyme of a verse.
Vide ibn Khallikfin, Wafayat, "Ibrahim b. Muhammad b. 'Arafah."
13 Cf. Fuck, op. cit., pp. U-12.
14 What distinguished the Fiqh of abu Hanifah was exactly the same: the
probing into the "efficient cause" f'illah) governing a number of given instances
and then applying the same to unforeseen circumstances. The people of the Hijaz
were extremely chary of such reasoning and it is no mere chance that they came
to be notorious for their ignorance of grammar. It is remarkable that the opponents
of abu Hanifah, who wanted to run down his school of Fiqh, thought it necessary
1020
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
bears the impress of Hellenism. Nevertheless, it remains a mere conjecture
that the early Muslims took over anything specific from Greek sources in
grammar, in the same way as it is a mere wishful thought that Fiqh is indebted
to anything specific in the Roman Law. 15
The cornerstone of Arabic grammar is the correlation of the i'rab of the
different parts of a sentence based on the theory of an 'dmil, i.e., an efficient
cause supposedly resident in one of the parts and governing the whole. The
earliest trace of it is perhaps in the Kitab al-'Awamil of al-Khalil — a work
known to us only by its title. But there is no reason to suppose that al-Khalil
diverged in any way from the general line pursued thitherto by 'Isa b. 'Umar
and others. Unless, therefore, this 'dmil theory is proved to have been for-
mulated on a familiar pattern, the indebtedness of Arabic grammarians to
any external source will remain highly problematic.
There is, however, yet another development of Arabic grammar which is
clearly and directly traceable to Greek influence. The most notable and
lasting effect of the assimilation of Greek logic and philosophy in the 'Abbasid
period was a general tendency to remould into logically defined systems almost
all the nascent branches of learning, which until then lacked a rigid order.
So far as Arabic grammar is concerned, this development took place when a
Mu'tazilite Mutakallim and a nahtvi were combined in the person of abu al-
Hasan 'Ali b. 'Isa al-Rummani (d. 384/994). Actually, the process must have
started with the Kufan grammarian, al-Farra' (d. 207/822), who was also a
Mu'tazilite. Under the patronage of al-Mamun he produced the Kitab al-
Hudud, which must have been the first attempt, so to say, to "philosophize"
Arabic grammar. However, the process reached its culmination in al-
Rummani so as to justify his being credited with that highly conventional logical
reasoning which has since formed such a notable feature of Arabic grammar.
This new development is amply borne out by a saying that out of the three
contemporaries the words of al-SIrafi (abu Sa'id al- Hasan b. 'Abd Allah) were
thoroughly understood without a teacher, those of abu 'Ali (al- Hasan b.
Ahmad) al-Farisi were only partly so, whereas those of al-Rummani were
not intelligible at all. 18 Even abu 'Ali al-Farisi, who, according to the above
testimony, was himself partly affected by the innovation, is reputed to have
commented that if Nahw be what was expounded by al-Rummani, then he
had nothing to do with it, and vice versa. Undoubtedly, al-Rummani did not
bring out a new system of grammar; he only applied the methods and the
jargon of Aristotelian logic to the adumbration of those nebulous conceptions
which, in the simple language of the old tradition as represented by al-Sirafi,
were easily comprehended by the average student. There was a similar
to make fun of the application of his methods to grammar. Cf., Fuck, op.
cit., p. 65.
15 M. Hamidullah, "Influence of Roman Law on Muslim Law" — a paper read
before the All -India Oriental Conference, December 1941.
16 Yftqut, Mu'jam <d-Udaba\ " 'Ali b. 'Isa."
1021
A History of Muslim Philosophy
transformation in Arabic rhetorics too. Further, it will be noted that by this
time the Arabs had acquired some familiarity with Greek grammar, which
warranted their indulging in a comparison of its merits with those of Arabic
grammar. But the latter was considered to have already possessed a separate
entity with a different development.
While the general trend at Basrah was to go ahead with the formulation
of general rules, there also developed a reaction against the scant attention
paid to the angularities of actual usage, which, however, came to the fore
only when abu Ja'far (Muhammad b. abi Sarra 'Ali) al-Ru'asiyy took it over
as the basis of the rival school of Kufah founded by him in the later half
of the second/eighth century. The Kufans would assiduously collect such
instances as violated the general rules of the Basrans and would treat them
not as exceptions but as the basis of another general rule opposed to that
of the Basrans. This school achieved a meteoric rise in importance under
the favour of the 'Abbasid Caliphs. Two of its very influential representatives
at the Court were: (a) al-Kisa'iyy (abu al- Hasan 'Ali b. Hamzah), the Persian
pupil of both al-Khalil and abu Ja'far al-Ru'asiyy, who came to be regarded
as the compeer of Imam abu Yusuf under Harun al-Rashid, and (b) al-Farra'
(Yahya b. Ziyad), the Dailamite, who was appointed tutor to al-Mamun's
sons and was designated as Amir al-Mu'minin in the realm of al-Nahw.
Ultimately, however, Baghdad proved a veritable crucible for the gradual
fusion of the two schools through interchange. From the end of the third/
ninth century onwards there flourished at the metropolis scholars who were
free from prejudice for or against any particular town or tribe and were
actuated by sheer academic interest and reasonableness.
Just one more development may. be noted. Abu 'Ali al-Farisi, who has
been mentioned above, had an illustrious pupil called 'Uthman b. Jinni (d.
392/1002), the son of a Greek slave, regarded as the last of the philosopher-
grammarians. But ibn Jinni did not help in clothing the 'amil theory with
the armoury of logic ; rather he submitted the 'amil theory itself to the scrutiny
of reason. The result was a scathing attack on the false notion that one parti-
cular word in a sentence governed the whole. The hint dropped by ibn Jinni
was picked up in far distant Spain by "ibn Madda'," the Zahirite Qadi
of Cordova under the Muwahhids, who in his al-Radd 'ah, al-Nuhat attempted
something in grammar akin to al-Ghazali's Takafut in philosophy. However,
his attack, though not lacking in flashes of brilliance, remained a cry in wilder-
ness as no alternative formulation of Arabic grammar on a basis other than
the 'amil theory was ever achieved, far less accepted.
To sum up, the inspiration for Arabic grammar came from religion ; the
need for it was created by the commingling within Islam of the Arabs and the
non-Arabs. The methods of observation and induction yielded the discovery
of the main body of "laws" in the working of language; the only snag was
that the laws of language are not so uniform and immutable as the laws of
nature. The older school of grammarians at Basrah suffered from an immature
1022
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
pedantry which was aggravated by the desire of the non- Arabs among them
to outdo the Arabs. At a very early time 'Isa b. 'Uraar had the temerity to
boast in the presence of the Arab philologist, abu 'Amr b. al-'Ala', that he
('Isa b. 'Umar) was a greater master of Arabic than Ma'add b. 'Adnan, the
progenitor of the Arabs! And both 'Isa b. 'Umar and abu 'Amr b. al-'Ala'
exhibited a tendency to prefer such readings of the Qur'an as, in their opinion,
were more in consonance with the general rules of grammar. 17 This authori-
tarianism on the part of the "wisdom of the school seeking to improve upon
the facts" (Noldeke) was checked by the rise of the rival school of Kufah.
Rather the latter erred on the other extreme ; it is said of al-Kisa'iyy that in
his avid search for the unusual and the exceptional he would not pause to
test the reliability of his sources. None the less, a relieving feature of the
situation was that dogmatism always felt compelled to bow before actual usage,
as typically exemplified in the contest between Sibawaihi and al-Kisa'iyy at
the Court of Harun al-Rashid. 18 Ultimately, Baghdad provided the necessary
atmosphere for the gradual shedding of prejudices and the engagement of all
in a joint effort to erect a common edifice large enough to accommodate the
conflicting viewpoints on most, if not all, of the established usage. The final
success was vitiated by sporadic attempts at putting possible constructions
on actual usage. This tendency was decried at the very start by 'Isa b. 'Umar, 19
but it reappeared prominently later on and is justly parodied by abu al-
'Ala' al-Ma'arri in his Risdlat al- Ghufran. 20 The instruments of Aristotelian
logic helped to hammer out the crudities of enunciation and adumbration.
Filially, there was an attempt to rebuild the entire system on a simpler basis
other than the 'amil theory, which, however, did not fructify. On the whole,
the Arabic grammar remains a magnificent achievement — religious in spirit,
17 It must be pointed out that it was merely a choice from among the various
current readings; there was no attempt to "correct" the Qur'an in line with usage
elsewhere. As pointed out by Wolfensen, it is an entirely wrong and unscientific
approach on the part of some Western scholars to judge and criticize the Qur'an
on the basis of pre-Islamic poetry. Apart from any religious sentiment, the Qur'an
is the oldest and the most reliable book ; other sources, though relating to anterior
times, are posterior to it in point of actual compilation. Tarikh al-Lughat al-Samiy-
yah, Cairo, 1926, pp. 169 et seq.
18 The reference is to what is known as "al-Mas'alah al-Zunburiyyah." When
Sibawaihi challenged al-Kisa'iyy on a point of grammar, the matter had to be
referred for decision to the Arabs. It is alleged that the Arabs were bribed to save
the face of the royal tutor. The incident affected Sibawaihi so deeply that perhaps
it caused his death prematurely.
19 Once when al-Kisa'iyy began giving the various grammatically correct readings
of a particular phrase, 'Isa b. 'Umar rebuked him saying: "I want the actual way
in which it is spoken by the Arabs." Yaqiit, op.cit., "'Isa b. 'Umar," last para-
graph. This tendency is to be compared with the hiycd — permissible tricks for
evading the Law — in which some of the legists exhibited their acumen.
20 Al-Ma'arri contrives to bring the grammarians and the poets in the heaven
together when the latter protest at the former's purely speculative interpretation
of verses, e.g., p. 152 of the Risalah, ed. Bint al-Shati, Cairo.
1023
A History of Muslim Philosophy
linguistic in material, scientific in methods, and logical in form— which has
been eminently successful in preserving the Qur'an and keeping its idiom
unchanged yet alive throughout the centuries.
LEXICOGRAPHY
The preservation of the Qur'an involved the institution of such disciplines
as would eifectively safeguard not only the authentic rendering of the text
but also the warranted understanding of its import against error, corruption,
or ignorance overtaking those for whom it was "plain Arabic" at the time.
The former purpose was achieved through al- l Ar(Myyah, which later on
developed into a full-fledged science under the name of al-Nahw. The next
concern was naturally the meaning conveyed by the text. In the beginning,
there could have been little difficulty about it in the same way as about the
vocalization of the text which was just a matter of natural aptitude. 21 How-
ever, with the lapse of time and the changes in the social pattern, uncertainties
began to creep in around words and expressions which had gradually assumed
an air of rarity. Obviously, the way to clearing such doubts and uncertainties
was to search for the occurrence of those words and expressions in the speech
of the Arabs elsewhere. 22 In doing so, care had to be taken that the citations
should faithfully reflect the idiom of the time of the Prophet during which
the Qur'an was revealed. That is to say, either the citations should belong
to the period contemporary with, or immediately antecedent to, the Qur'an
or be culled from the current usage of those whose social pattern had
continued unchanged and who, therefore, could be relied upon to have pre-
served the idiom from that time uncorrupted and untainted by extraneous
influences. Consequently, a zealous hunt was afoot to collect and preserve
as much of pre-Islamic poetry, proverbs, and orations as could be salvaged
from the memories of the people together with the current idiom of the
A'rab, i.e., the people of the desert impervious to influences from outside.
The method of collection was identical with that of the collection of the
Hadith.
The end of the first/seventh century witnessed the rise of a band of scholars
specially noted for their profundity in the field of al-lughfih (Arabic usage)
21 In the words of abu 'Ubaidah introducing his Majaz al-Qur'an: "The Qur'an
was revealed in clear Arabic language and those who heard it recited by the Pro-
phet had no need of asking for its meaning . . . ."
22 Cf. the saying attributed to ibn 'Abbas: When you be in doubt about any
rare expression of the Qur'an, seek it in poetry. Al-Suyuti, al-Muzhir, ed.
Muhammad Ahmad Jad al-Maula and others, Cairo, II, p. 302. It was in
consideration of this that linguistic studies were regarded an obligation on a par with
the obligation of prayer ; cf. the verses (ibid.). Ibnal-Qatta' {al-Af'til, Hyderabad, p. 3)
went so far as to declare that anyone who decries the poetry of the Arabs is a
sinner, and the one who runs down their language is an infidel (kafir).
1024
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
with its ancillary branches of cd-shi'r (poetry), al-akhbdr (historical annals),
al-ayydm (accounts of tribal wars), and al-ansdb (genealogies). The most pro-
minent name among these scholars is that of abu 'Amr b. al-'Ala* (70/689-
154/770), an Arab nobleman of Basrah and an associate of 'Isa b. 'Umar.
His collection of Arabic philology, when piled up, touched the ceiling of his
room. He set fire to this vast collection when he was overwhelmed by a fit
of asceticism towards the end of his life. Yet he continued to be the primary
source of knowledge for the next generation.
While the process of collecting the vocabulary and the illustrations of its
diverse uses was still going on, the genius of al-Khalil. whom we have mentioned
before, burst with the idea of arranging and fitting the vocabulary into the
orderly scheme of a lexicon. Actually, al-Khalil is known as the author of
the first Arabic lexicon called the Kitab al-'Ain, but the authorship is a bit
disputed. This much, however, is certain that even if the actual compilation
was not exclusively or partially the work of al-Khalil. the idea of a lexicon
and the scheme thereof were first conceived by him. Let us now examine
what the scheme is like.
Al-Khalil starts with (a) reducing all words to their roots, i.e., the radical
letters (al-usul) which form an immutable kernel in contradistinction to
those that are added (al-zawa'id) in the course of derivation and inflexion.
Next (b) he classifies the roots according to the number of letters comprised
in them: 2, 3, 4, and 5. Each class of words is then arranged in a separate
part and even within each class special treatment under distinctive heading
is resorted to in the case of words containing one or more of the vowels,
double letters, or a Tiamzah.
The above framework is in line with al-KhaliFs attempt at a computation
of Arabic vocabulary, which is a further proof of his originality. This quest
he pursued on the same structural basis in a mathematical way. By multiply-
ing the 28 letters of the alphabet by 27 (28 minus 1 , to drop out double letters)
he got 756 forms of the biliteral (there being no uniliterals in Arabic).
Dividing this number by 2, he had 378 combinations irrespective of the
order of the two letters. Taking these biliteral forms as one unit and adding
a third letter to them, he worked out the number of triliteral forms and so
on. It will be observed that the above method yielded the theoretically possible
combinations of letters, all of which are not in actual use (musta'mal). Con-
sequently, al-Khalil had to mention each and every possible combination and
indicate if any specific forms were unused (muhmal). A further peculiarity,
which made reference so difficult and cumbersome, was that in the arrange-
ment of the lexicon he concerned himself merely with combinations of letters
and mentioned all the forms yielded by a change of order of the letters under
one and the same heading. For example, under MY one will find both MY
and its reverse (maqlub), YM.
Within the above framework, intrinsically scientific but practically un-
handy, the order was according to the opening letter of the alphabet in the
1025
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
words. But the order of the alphabet observed by al-Khalil was not free from
novelty; the grouping was according to the part of the mouth, from down
the throat right out to the lips, which produced the sound. This novelty has
been aptly noted and the similarity between it and the practice of the Sanskrit
lexicographers has aroused a good deal of speculation. There is no doubt
that the present-day arrangement, based on grouping of words according to
the shape of the letters in writing, was the one in common use even at that
distant date, though the Arabs were also familiar with the order according
to the abjad system, which was originally taken over from the Syriac (and
Hebrew) along with the art of writing. 23 The phonetico-physiological system
of al-Khalil was neither common at the time nor did it achieve popularity
afterwards. But any significance which its similarity to that of Sanskrit
might suggest is whittled down by due consideration of the fact that in all
probability it developed indigenously out of the practice of the recitation
of the Qur'an. With the emphasis on recitation it was but natural that pho-
netics should receive special attention and that there be a grouping of letters
on that basis. Actually, evidence is not wanting that the linguists did engage
themselves in such a study; there were some differences too between the
Basrans and the Kufans as to the order of the alphabet on the basis of phone-
tics. 24 Moreover, al-Khalil also paid some regard to the frequency of the letters
in use; otherwise *ain would not have come first in order. 25
No doubt, the general lexicon of al-Khalil represented an idea much in
advance of his time; for the following one century or so no one dared imitate,
far less improve upon, his scheme. In the meantime, however, much valuable
work was done in the form of small tracts comprising words, synonyms, and
cognates with their fine shades of meaning grouped around particular subjects.
Typical of such subjects are: al-ibil (the camel), al-matar (the rain), al-sildh
(the weapons), and the like. Similarly, special features of the Arabic usage
were also singled out for monographic treatment: (a) al-muthalkithat, (b) al-
maqsur w-al-mamdud, (c) al-itbd' w-al-muzawajah, (d) al-ajnas, and (e) al-
nawadir. Some philologists wrote running commentaries (concerned merely
with the meaning of selected words and phrases supported with illustrations
from other sources) on the Qur'an and the sayings of the Prophet under such
captions as Qhanb al-Qur'an, Gharib al-Hadith, Majaz al-Qur'an, Ma'am al-
Qur'an, etc. The veterans in this field were two Arabs and two non-Arabs,
one of the latter being from the distant province of Sind:
*» It was in that original source that numerical values were assigned to the letters
in that order, which is still adhered to in Arabic and other Islamic languages for
purposes of chronograms. The assertion by later Arab philologists that abjad,
hawwaz, etc., were the names of the inventors of the art of writing (al-Suyuti,
op tit II, p. 342) should be taken merely as a recollection of the old borrowing.
» Ibn Duraid, Jamharat al-Lughah, Hyderabad, cf. the Preface; cf. also al-
Suyuti, op. cit., I, p. 85.
25 Al-Suyuti, op. cit., I, p. 90.
1026
Arabic Literature: Grammar and Lexicography
(1) Al-Asma'i (abu Sa'id 'Abd al-Malik b. Quraib), an Arab of Basrah, was
born in 122/739 or 123/740 and died in about 217/832. He amused Harfln al-
Rashid with his stock of interesting anecdotes about the life of the A'rab,
(2) Abu Zaid (Sa'id b. Aus) al-Ansari was another Arab of Basrah who
reached Baghdad during the time of al-Mahdi and died about 215/830, then
over ninety years of age. He was not inhibited by partisanship and eagerly
learnt from al-Mufaddal and other Kufans. By common agreement, he is
regarded as thoroughly trustworthy, though his pedantry is often a source
of amusement.
(3) Abu 'Ubaidah Ma'mar b. al-Muthanna, a ntavJa, said to have been of
Persian Jewish descent, was born in 110/728 at Basrah where he spent most
of his life. He was patronized by the Baramikah and was summoned to
Baghdad by Hartin al-Rashid to read his works to him. While rendering
yeoman service to the Arabic philological studies, he collected the muthdlib
or the vices of the Arab tribes and caused such offence to tribal pride that
at his death in 210/285 nobody attended his funeral.
(4) Ibn al-A'rabi (abu 'Abd Allah Muhammad b. Ziyad) was the son of a
Sindian slave and the foster-child of the famous Kiifan philologist, al-Mufaddal
al-Dabbi. His prodigious memory was a storehouse of Arabic philology and
folklore. Remarkably enough, he relied on his own independent sources and
questioned not without success the authority of al-Asma'i and abu 'Ubaidah.
He died about 231/845.
The special treatises referred to above naturally swelled to a considerable
extent the volume of material which lay ready at hand for incorporation in
a general lexicon. Another such lexicon was produced, rather dictated mostly
from memory, by ibn Duraid (abu Bakr Muhammad b. al- Hasan, born at
Basrah in 223/837 and died 321/933) who enjoyed the patronage of the MIkalids
of Fars. Though ibn Duraid claims that his work is much easier for reference
than that of al-Khalil, the fact is that there is little improvement so far as
the scheme, particularly the break-up of the vocabulary into structural cate-
gories, is concerned. Even the irksome device which jumbles up all the orders,
forward and reverse, of a combination of letters under one and the same head-
ing, continues to be there. Only the phonetic order of the alphabet is discarded.
Much of the confusion was caused by the nebulous state in which al-tasrif
(etymology) happened to be at that time. There was so far no clarity as to
the roots of words, particularly those containing a vowel, a double consonant,
or a Tiamzah. Similarly, lack of clarity as to the distinction between al-usUl
and al-zawa'id caused the different categories to be mixed up. As a matter
of fact, it was this uncertainty which made it expedient for ibn Duraid to
insert a miscellany here and there, apart from the nawadir or peculiar usages
and expressions listed under appropriate captions at the end.
There is indeed one important point of difference which is indicated by the
very name, Jamharat al-Lughah. Ibn Duraid included in it only the familiar
and the useful and eschewed the obsolete and the discordant. This was the
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
beginning of a process of subjecting to criticism and sifting out the useful
and the dependable from the large mass of material left behind by the early
scholars, who were concerned with collecting and recording whatever they
came across. At the time when the mistakes were being corrected, an attempt
was also made to supply the omissions in the works of the earlier authors.
These, in short, are the new features noticeable in the lexicographical pro-
ductions of the fourth/tenth century. Particularly notable in this respect is
the Tahdkib, whose author, abu Mansflr Muhammad b. Ahmad al-Azhari
(d. 370/980), a pupil of ibn Duraid, was urged to wanderlust in the desert
for the collection of al-lughat. Incidentally, he fell a captive into the hands of
a Bedouin tribe; this provided him with the desired opportunity. Equally
important is al-Muhlt of al-Sahib b. 'Abbad, who died in 385/995.
The culmination of the critical activity of the fourth/tenth century aiming
at authenticity and comprehensiveness, was reached in the Sihah of al-Jauhari,
abu Nasr Isma'il b. Hammad (died about 398/1007), a native of Farab who
settled down at Nishapiir. The very name Sihah reminds one of the Sahlh
of al-Bukhari. It has already been hinted at that the method of collecting
al-lughat was essentially the same as the one applied to the collection of the
traditions, only a higher degree of stringency was observed in the case of the latter
than in that of the former. This is aptly illustrated by the example of al-Asma'i,
who is held to be trustworthy in regard to Hadith, but he risks conjectures
in matters pertaining to the lughcit and even embellishes anecdotes for the sake
of amusement. 26 Anyway, it is worthwhile to note that even the nomenclature
of the Hadith such as the mutawatir and the ahad was applied to the lughat
and the degree of reliability of any particular usage determined accordingly.
In the beginning it was not uncommon even to mention the isnad or the chain
of narrators and to discuss the personal character and reputation of the
transmitters. 37 Thus, a compendium of the Sahlh was sought to be arrived at
in the field of lugh&t parallel to a similar, though much more scrupulously
worked out, effort in the field of religious tradition. 28 It has, however, to
be noticed that the Sihah suffered grievously from an unfortunate circum-
stance : the author was overtaken by a fit of melancholy which rendered
him incapable of revising the manuscript. Further, due to the absence of
any authentic copy of the text, a good deal of corruption also set in. All
this necessitated a re-examination of the work in glosses and commentaries
by later writers.
! * Cf. Ahmad Amin, Duha al-Isldm, Cairo, 1952, II, p. 301. Abu 'Ubaidah
once ridiculed al-Asma'i's extreme cautiousness in the interpretation of the Qur'an
by asking him whether he was sure of the meaning of al-hhvbz (bread). Cf. Y&qut,
op. cit., "Ma'mar b. al-Muthanna."
27 Al-Suyiiti, op. cit., I, pp. 118 et seq.
88 Just because the sciences of al-Hadlth and al-lughah were recognized as twins,
the highest academic title for the learned in either was the same, al-hafiz. Ibid.,
II, p. 312.
1028
Arabic Literature : Grammar and Lexicography
The work of al-Jauhari was still more remarkable in another way. In it
the entire vocabulary was integrated (instead of being split up into structural
categories) and arranged in alphabetical order with first reference to the last
letter and a second reference to its combination with the first. This new scheme
at once became popular and was highly appreciated as particularly suited
to a language in which the endings of the words had a unique importance
for purposes of rhyme (qdfiyah and saj'). Apart from the merits of this integ-
rated scheme, the development and standardization of al-tasrlf (etymology)
at the hands of al-MazIni (abu 'Uthman Bakr b. Muhammad, d. 249/863),
ibn Jinni, and al-Rummani during the course of the fourth/tenth century
removed a good deal of the confusion which marred the works of al-Khalll
and ibn Duraid.
We have now reached a time when the Arabic vocabulary was supposed
to have been exhaustively collected and the meanings of words established
with reasonable certainty. Henceforth, efforts were directed at collecting the
material scattered in the previous works either (a) in the form of large com-
prehensive dictionaries or (b) in concise handy volumes designed for the ordi-
nary student. Naturally, the latter often dispensed with illustrations and
citations. The most important works of the former category are :
(1) Al-Muhkam by the blind Spanish scholar, ibn Sidah (abu al- Hasan
'Ali b. Ahmad ?, d. 460/1068), was held in great esteem for comprehensiveness
and absolute reliability. But perhaps the author did not like innovations;
hence he went back to the earliest model of al-Khalil for its arrangement.
(2) Al- l Ubab (incomplete) was composed by Radi al-Din Hasan al-Saghani,
born in Lahore in 570/1174. He settled at Baghdad where he dedicated
his work to ibn al-'Alqami, the minister of al-Musta'sim, whence he was
sent out twice as ambassador of the 'Abbasid Caliph to the Court of Htutmish
at Delhi.
(3) The Lisan al-'Arab was compiled by ibn Mukarram/ibn Manzur (Jamal
al-Din Muhammad), who was born in 690/1291, and died at Cairo in 771/1369.
It is expressly based on the works of ibn Duraid, al-Azhari, al-Jauhari, and
ibn Sidah.
Of the latter category, the work which achieved a high degree of popularity
is the Qamus of Majd al-Din al-Firiizabadi (Muhammad b. Ya'qiib) who died
in 816/1413. It draws upon al-Muhkam and al-'Vbdb.
Yet another work which deserves special mention is the Asas al-Baldghah
of the well-known Mu'tazilite al-Zamakhshari (abu al-Qasim Jar Allah
Mahmud b. 'Umar, born 467/1074 and died 538/1143). The author was a native
of Khwarizm who spent a long time in Makkah and Baghdad. He realized that
the mere recording of meanings was an insufficient guide to the practical use
of words. He, therefore, would give the occasions and the contexts in which
the words were employed. What is still more remarkable is the arrangement
of the Asm, which is in the alphabetical order with reference to the first (and
then the second and so forth) letter of a word. That is to say, its arrangement
1029
A History of Muslim Philosophy
is exactly the same as has come into vogue in modern times since the impact
of Western literary influences.
It is interesting to note that the early trend towards compiling treatises
dealing with words grouped around particular subjects did not die with the
appearance of the general lexicons; it had an uninterrupted development
on parallel lines. The greatest work of this kind is al-Mukhassas, a twin of
the general lexicon, al-Mufykam, by the Andalusian ibn Sidah. In al-Mukhassas,
the vocabulary is grouped under subject headings, e.g., the hair, the eye, etc.,
which are classified into "books" such as that or. "human body." Even if the
position of al-Muhkam is not wholly unsurpassed, that of al-Mukf&ssas is
definitely so.
Once the framework of a general lexicon was fixed, the running commentaries
on the rare and difficult words in the Qur'an and/or the Hadith were also
brought under that form. 29 Similarly, no time was lost in extending the facility
and the benefits of a general dictionary to the other specialized branches such
as zoology, botany, biography, geography, bibliography, and finally the
encyclopedias (al-mausu'at). It may be observed in this connection that
interest in language and literature, which the scheme of a lexicon was originally
designed to subserve, seldom disappeared in any of the works, however
specialized and limited the scope of their treatment. It would, for example,
be really odd to conceive of a zoologist or a geographer who was not familiar
with the references in the Qur'an and the Hadith or who would be unable
to recall poetry, proverbs, and pithy sayings concerning animals or towns.
This all-pervading interest in humanities is perhaps the most valuable asset
of Islamic culture.
In conclusion, it will be recalled that the early philologists were fully con-
scious of the sanctity of their task ; they showed themselves to be scrupulous
in method and honest in purpose. But the scope of the linguistic studies was
bound in course of time to extend beyond what was strictly relevant to the
Qur'an and the Hadith. As the bounds of the sacred faded into those of the
profane, the common failings of vanity, mere guess or conjecture, or even
unguarded reliance on genuine misunderstandings, contributed to the inter-
polation of the spurious. Also, as these studies came to be held in high esteem
and patronized with abundant monetary gifts, the veterans in the field were
sometimes tempted to window-dress faked rarities in their shop. But the
probe into their personal weaknesses, so characteristic of Islamic religious
and literary tradition, and the severe tests subsequently applied to their
statements served to a large extent to clear the chaff from the grain. On the
whole, there is no doubt that a fair degree of reliability was achieved. In the
same way it is impossible to claim that the entire vocabulary and usage
were exhausted, yet there is no gainsaying the fact that an enormous part
of them was actually encompassed. The charge that the Arabic philologists
' Cf. Kashj al-Zunun, II, pp. 1204-06.
1030
Arabic Literature : Theories of Literary Criticism
concerned themselves too exclusively with the idiom of the Qur'an and
showed no interest in contemporary deviations from the same, tantamounts
to questioning their objective or purpose, which has been steadily confirmed
throughout the ages. In regard to the scheme and the arrangement of a lexicon,
the early pioneers proceeded on the basis of a scientific etymological analysis
of the structure of the vocabulary. Practical convenience was achieved later in
the superbly original plan of al-Jauhari, which remains the one specially
suited to the genius of the language. Even the model which has become so
popular in modern times is traceable to al-Zamakhshari.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Al-Suyufci, al-Muzhir; Yaqut, Mu'jam al-Udaba'; ibn ghalttkan, Wafayat al-
A'yan; ibn Khaldun, Muqaddimah; Hajj Khalifah, Kashj al-Zunun; Jurji Zaid&n,
Tdrikk al-Adab al-'Arabiyyah; Ahmad Amin, Duha al-Idam, Part II, Chap. VI;
Zuhr al-Islam, Part II, Chaps. Ill and IV.
Chapter LII
ARABIC LITERATURE:
THEORIES OF LITERARY CRITICISM
In this account of the Arab contribution to the theories of literary criticism,
the term "Arab" is used in a wide sense to include all the Arabic-speaking
peoples, and the writers who used Arabic as their cultural medium, regardless
of their racial origins.
Literary criticism is also broadly used to cover the whole field of literary
appreciation, analysis, judgment, and comparison on the practical as well as
the theoretical side. In this broad sense, Baldghah — which concerns itself
with the study of the figures of speech and the stylistic aspects of literature
in general — may be included under literary criticism, at least of the golden
era of the early centuries of Hijrah, although, generally speaking, the relation
between the two is a matter of controversy.
The period covered by our treatment is likewise a fairly long one. It extends
from the first/seventh century to the present time, and it corresponds to the
Islamic era in the history of the Arabs. For, although the Arabs achieved a
high measure of perfection in their poetry two centuries before Islam, they
did not reach the maturer stage of theorizing about literature and its excellence
until their minds were stirred and stimulated by the call of the new religion
that arose in their midst. The fact that the miraculous sign of the religion
of Islam came in the form of a "Clear Arabic Book" was destined to play
1031
A History of Muslim Philosophy
an important role in Arabic language and literature, and consequently in
the enrichment of Arabic literary criticism.
From early times, the Arabs were noted for their literary excellence. Poetry
and oratory were the chosen forms of their artistic expression. As early as the
second half of the sixth century A.D., when Arabic poetry was in its flowering
period, some rudimentary forms of practical criticism could be observed.
These were preserved by narrators, and later recorded by the early authors
of the general studies of the Arabic language and literature. Some time
before Islam there grew a number of market-places in the Hijaz where people
of different tribes used to assemble for trade as well as for literary contests.
Names of recognized arbiters in those contests, such as that of al-Nabighah
al-Thubyani, and their judgments and criticisms were handed down to posterity
by the rdwls (transmitters). Naturally, very little explanation or justification
was offered for such judgments, and very often one verse or one poem would
be given as a ground for a high praise of a poet or for a comparison between
two contestants in the market-place. Some of the Prophet's Companions
were known for their appreciation and sound judgment of pre-Islamic poetry.
The second Caliph 'Umar, for instance, was reported to hold that al-Nabighah
was the greatest of the J&hiliyyah poets, and when he was asked the reason
for this pronouncement, he answered: "Al-Nabighah never used redundant
words, always avoided the uncouth in poetry, and never praised a person
except for true merit."
By the end of the first/seventh century Arabic culture had spread outside
Arabia in various directions with the spread of Islam. The mind of the new
Muslim community was getting ready for a general intellectual awakening.
The first to reap the benefit of those efforts were the religious fields on one
side and the linguistic and literary on the other. Some scholars busied them-
selves with the explanation of the Qur'an and the understanding of its
challenge of miraculous literary excellence. Others concentrated on tracing
pure linguistic usages of the Arabic language and standardizing its grammar
and syntax. Some directed their efforts to collecting pre-Islamic poetry and
preserving it against loss.
The stage was now set for the beginning of a golden era in authorship which
lasted several centuries. The critical problems raised by the Arab authors
during this period can be summed up under the following main heads:
1. Literary aspect of the Qur'anic i'jaz (eloquence of discourse), and the
extent to which literary criticism could aid in discovering the secrets of that
i'jaz. 2. Unique and sometimes obscure usages of the Qur'anic style.
3. Authenticity of literary texts transmitted by the ravns from pre-Islamic
and early Islamic times. 4. Classification of the Arab poets, both Islamic
and pre-Islamic. 5. Merits and demerits of the ancients and moderns in
Arabic literature, and the controversies between traditionalists and innovators.
6. Claims of meaning and expression to literary excellence. 7. Originality
and imitation, and the phenomenon of plagiarism. 8. Nature of speech and
Arabic Literature : Theories of Literary Criticism
articulation. 9. Meaning and essence of literary excellence, in structure,
signification, effectiveness, and formal beauty. 10. Definition of the figures
of speech. 11. Standards for the comparison between rival poets. 12. Norms
of excellence in the chief poetical arts, such as panegyric, satire, and elegy.
13. Linguistic aspects of literary art.
These various problems of literary criticism were treated sometimes sepa-
rately in a specialized fashion, and sometimes together in manuals or text-books.
The stylistic aspects in particular received a large share of the Arab authors'
attention, and the researches around them grew until they formed a separate
critical branch under the name of Balaghah. This was mainly the outcome of the
Muslims' preoccupation with problems of the Qur'anic exegesis and i'jaz. Greek
writings on rhetorics which were translated into Arabic as early as the third/
ninth century also contributed to the growth of the science of Balaghah.
In fact, that science dominated the Arabic critical field all through the later
centuries of Islam from the seventh/thirteenth to the twelfth/eighteenth.
The above enumeration of the different aspects of Arabic literary criticism
will indicate the immensity of its wealth, and the difficulty of separating the
Arab contribution in this field from their contribution to the development
of Arabic language and literature in general. Many a general book on literature,
such as the Kitab al-Aghani (Book of Songs) by abu al-Faraj, would also
claim a place among the books of literary criticism. The same can be said
of books, such as al-Baqillani's I'jaz al-Qur'dn, which dealt exclusively with
the unique excellence of the Qur'an.
But in the following survey of the main features of Arabic literary criticism
we shall limit ourselves to singling out some of its outstanding landmarks
and making a brief halt at each of them.
1. One of the early grammarians, philologists, and literary critics of the
first stage in Arabic authorship was ibn Sallam (d. 231/845). His book Tabaqat
al-Shu'ara' is representative of the critical attainments of his period. Criti-
cism, he maintains, needs long training and experience, and a critic must be
an expert on his subject and well versed in the practice of his art. In other
words, taste alone does not meet the requirements of criticism, and must be
supplemented by experience and long study. He also adds that poetry, like
the sciences and other arts, needs its own special technique and culture. He
was aware of the established truth that abundance of practical study is worth
more than all academic knowledge.
The second point stressed by ibn Sallam in his book is the importance of
verifying the poetical texts and of ascertaining their origin. This is the first
step in textual criticism and must be taken as its foundation. He directed
a violent attack on the manner in which some Arab chroniclers accepted and
narrated ancient poetry, and, therefore, questioned the authenticity of many
of their texts.
The other important point in ibn Sallam 's book is the division of poets
into classes. With regard to time, poets were either Islamic or pre-Islamic.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
He tried to classify the poets of either era according to the abundance and
excellence of their poetry. In his classification he also took into consideration
the place of origin.
Although ibn Sallam failed to support judgments he passed on poets and
poetry by analysing the texts or describing the qualities of each particular
poet, yet it must be admitted that Arabic criticism was taken by him a step
further, especially as regards questions of verification and classification of
poets. What we miss in his book, however, is criticism in the sense of a
discerning study and a methodical approach. The first attempts at methods
are not to be found earlier than the fourth/tenth century.
Al-Jahiz (d. 255/869), who was one of the leading Mu'tazilites and writers
of the third/ninth century, tried in his book al-Bayan w-al-Tabyin to give a
picture of criticism in the pre-Islamic times and the first/seventh century.
The criticism of that period, he maintained, was elementary, but, to a marked
degree, sound and convincing, as it emanated from genuine practical literary
taste. The critics of that period, according to him, managed to discover a
number of defects in poetical craftsmanship and to give valuable practical
advice to orators and poets.
Al-Jahiz's book was an echo of the intellectual life of the Arabs of the third/
ninth century. At that time the mosques of Kiifah and Basrah were not only
places for worship and administration of justice, but also schools for the teach-
ing of language, grammar, Hadith, and jurisprudence, as well as platforms
for narrators to relate to the assembled audiences the story of the Prophet's
life and conquests. Leaders of theological schools and religious divisions used
to go there for dialectical discussions, and a large number of people attended
them in quest of knowledge. Anyone who spoke in the mosque had to possess the
abflity to express himself clearly, to attract and persuade the audience. Thus,
a new kind of study came into being to show the qualities an orator needed,
and to point out the defects of different speeches. Observations on effective
and defective public speaking contained in al-J&biz's book can be grouped
under the following headings: (i) Correctness of pronunciation and defects
caused by deformities of the vocal organs, (ii) Proper and improper employ-
ment of language and harmonious and disharmonious use of words, (ill)
Syntax and the relations between words and their meanings, clarity, concise-
ness, suitability of expression to different occasions and audiences, and of
speech to its intended objective, (iv) The appearance of the orators and the
agreeableness of their gestures and mannerisms.
Another third/ninth century literary celebrity was the writer ibn Qutaibah
(d. 276/889), the author of many books on literature and Qur'anic usages.
In one of his books, al-Shi'r w-al-Shu'ara', he urged people to form independent
judgments and use their own power of appreciation. He attacked the philo-
sophers' approach to criticism and their use of logical method in the apprecia-
tion and analysis of literary texts. One of the critical problems he raised was
that of the division of poets into those who deliberate upon, revise, and
Arabic Literature : Theories of Literary Criticism
perfect their poetical works, and those who depend on the spontaneity and easy
flow of their poetic inspiration. He also opposed the tendency always to give
preference to the ancients just because they were ancients. Literary talent, he
argued, was not confined to any particular period. A modern poet might easily
surpass an ancient in literary creativeness and workmanship.
The contribution of the poet Prince *Abd Allah ibn al-Mu'tazz (d. 296/908)
to the development of Arabic criticism and his influence on it were of a
different character. He made a study of badi' which was considered in his days
an innovation in the poetical art, and set out to prove that it was not a new
creation at all. His book al-BadV was the first attempt at a systematic
treatment of the figures of speech, which he divided into three main
categories: (i) the metaphor which is the pillar-stone of poetry; (ii) artifices
connected with the form only and not with the essence of poetry, such as
assonance (tajnls) and antithesis (mutabaqah), and (iii) the dialectical
style which takes the form of a logical argument (al-mabhath al-kaldmi). By
quoting copious examples from the Qur'an, the Hadith, the speeches of the
Prophet's Companions, and the language of the Bedouins, ibn al-Mu'tazz
tried to show that the use of the figures of speech was inherent in the nature
of poetry, and that the Arabs practised the art long before the time of Bash-
shar, Muslim ibn al-Walid, and abu Nuwas. These modern poets of the 'Abbasid
period did not invent the art but simply extended its use until it was thought
a new creation. It is an open question whether ibn al-Mu'tazz was influenced,
in his BadV, by Aristotle's writings, especially the Rhetorics translated into
Arabic during the third/ninth and fourth/tenth centuries. But the treatment
of ibn al-Mu'tazz has the unmistakable stamp of originality, and the subject
seems to have begun to interest Arab critics in the second/eighth century
as an Arabic literary phenomenon. The influence, if any, might be sought
in the prominence given to metaphor and in the attempt at definition and
division of literary artifices.
But the real disciple of the philosophical sciences and the author who
manifested Aristotle's influence very clearly was Qudamah ibn Ja'far (d.
337/948). His book Naqd al-Shi'r is perhaps the first Arabic book to carry
in its title the word naqd which is the Arabic equivalent of criticism. It is
conceived and planned in the Aristotelian fashion of logical divisions and
definitions. The author begins by defining poetry as regular speech with
metres, rhymes, and meanings, proceeds to explain and justify this definition
on logical grounds, and then adds words as the fourth element constituting
poetry. Out of the relations between these four simple elements he creates
four complex ones, which evolve out of the harmony between them. He
points out that earlier Arab authors have neglected the critical side of the
studies of the poetical art, and directed their energies to the less important
aspects, namely, prosody and linguistic considerations. His, then, was an
attempt to create a real science of criticism and set the norms of excellence
for the principal categories of Arabic poetry.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
2- Arab contribution to literary criticism assumes clearer and maturer
forms in the fourth/tenth century. On the specialized side we meet with
al-Baqillani (d. 403/1012), who gives a scholarly account of the Qur'anic
i'jdz; al-Amidi (d. 371/981), who leaves us the best classical Arabic comparison
between two great poets, representatives of two schools of poetical art; and
al-Qadi al-Jurjani (d. 366/976) the writer of the earliest critical treatise on a
great Arabic figure in the literary history of the Arabs. On the general side,
at least two contributions must be mentioned here. The first is that of abu
al-Faraj al-Isfahani (d. 356/966), the writer of Kitdb al-Aghdni (the Book of
Songs), a unique book of its kind in the literatures of the world. And the
second is that of abu Hila.1 al-'Askari (d. 395/1004), who attempted to give a
complete systematic manual of Arabic rhetorical and critical principles as they
were known in his time. Now, to take the general contributions first. The
"Book of Songs" is a literary encyclopedia, in twenty volumes, dealing es-
sentially with lyrical poetry which was set to music and singing by the musicians
and singers of the early centuries of Islam. But around this theme the author
collected a large amount of critical and biographical information of a great
number of Arab poets. The critical aspect of al- Aghdni has received the atten-
tion of modern academic research. The wealth of narratives and biographical
data contained in the book has been a boon to modern Arabic play and story-
writers.
Al-'Askari made the two arts of poetry and prose the subject-matter of
his treatment and tried to systematize and enlarge upon the earlier general
attempts of al-Jahiz, ibn al-Mu'tazz, and Qudamah. The two Arabic rhetorical
conceptions of jasahah and balaghah received at his hands satisfactory defini-
tions, the first being connected with elegance and purity of style, and the
second with communicating and conveying the desired meaning in a con-
vincing and effective manner. Long chapters on distinguishing the good from
the bad in speech, on the nature of literary art, and on the technique of com-
position and good description, with copious examples of excellent poetry and
prose, occupy about half the book. The rest is an enumeration and elucidation
of literary artifices, the number of which al-'Askari raised to thirty-five,
which is more than double the number given earlier by ibn al-Mu'tazz.
Al-Jurjani's treatise on i'jdz takes its place among Arabic critical books
on account of its attempt at applying the critical conceptions to reveal some
of the secrets of the Qur'anic literary excellence. In doing this the author
subjected some of the highly esteemed Arabic poems to a severe test of criti-
cism to show the fallibility of human products. The Qur'anic i'jdz, he main-
tained, was something more than and above that which critical standards could
explain, something that could be felt more than known by the expert and
cultured reader or listener. This theory of i'jdz, peculiar to Muslim culture,
we meet again in a different setting when we come to 'Abd al-Qahir al-Jurjani.
The two treatises which exemplify Arabic criticism proper in its methodical
form are those of al-Amidi and al-Qadi al-Jurjani referred to earlier.
Arabic Literature: Theories of Literary Criticism
Al-Amidl's Muwdzanah (Comparison) between abu Tammam and his disciple
and kinsman al-Buhturi is the first systematic treatment of its kind in Arabic
criticism. The author collects the common meanings between the two poets
and, on the basis of a rigid comparison between each pair of words of similar
meanings, decides which is more poetical in that particular context. He takes
account of the supporters of each poet, reproduces the reasons given by them
for their stand, and brings into relief the faults and plagiarisms of each
of the two great poets. Although the subject of al-Amidi's study is a particular
ease of comparison, and the features it concentrates on are the artistic and
poetic ones only, it claims a high value because of its success in going beyond
the particular comparison to a more general comparative study. It adopts
the method of adducing comparable examples from the poetry of the fore-
runnera of the two poets, thus enlarging its scope and claiming for it a larger
share of critical accuracy. It exhibits the traditional literary models and reveals
its author's wide knowledge of Arabic poetry and his cultivated analytical
literary taste. It also gives one of the best practical accounts of the phenome-
non of plagiarism, which greatly occupies the attention of Arabic critics,
permeates a good deal of their comparative studies, and to some extent colours
their judgments of literary values.
Another valuable contribution in the fourth/tenth century to methodical
criticism is the "Arbitration" (Wasdtah) of al-Qadi al-Jurjani between
al-Mutanabbi, the famous Arab poet of the eastern Arab world of Islam,
and his antagonists. Al-Mutanabbi, by bis arrogant personality, wide ambi-
tion, and forceful poetry, created adversaries as well as staunch sup-
porters wherever he went. Many grammarians, linguists, critics, and rival
poets, shared in finding faults with his poetry and revealing plagiarisms,
which, they claimed, he committed against previous masters of Arabic poetry,
while others hailed him as the greatest Arab poet that ever lived. Many treatises
were written about him. The situation called for a sympathetic arbiter, and
al-Jurjani tried to play the role. His introduction to Wasdtah contains a
good deal of theorizing about literature. An example of this is his interest-
ing, and almost modern, analysis of poetical ability into four component
factors: natural aptitude, intelligence, acquaintance with and memorization
of past models, and practical training. These, he maintained, were factors of
a general nature, applicable to all humanity, and not confined to a certain
age or generation. Another example is the discussion of the influence of
environment on poetry, with illustrative examples from the poetry of Bedouins
and city-dwellers. All the different aspects of al-Mutanabbi's poetry, viz., his
philosophizing tendency to complication, occasional leaning on previous poets,
the system of building up his poem, and the use of badl', all received a masterly
analysis at the hands of al-Jurjani. The book succeeds in giving a general
picture of literary criticism in that period. It abounds in opinions of critical
scholars and recalls many famous comparisons held between poets, both
past and contemporary. In short, the Wasdtah of al-Jurjani along with the
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Muivazanak of al-Amidi represents the peak of practical Arabic criticism and
illustrates the Arabs' mature efforts in that field of literary study.
3. The climax of the Arab contribution to the theories of literary criticism
is still to be reached in the fifth/eleventh century at the hands of 'Abd al-
Qahir al-Jurjani {d. 471/1078), the author of the two well-known critical
books: Dala'il al-Fjaz and Asrdr al-Baldghah. The first book, although pri-
marily concerned with explaining the secrets and signs of the Qur'anic i'jaz,
faces the wider issue of literary excellence in general and reaches a fundamental
theory of structure, while the second searches deep into literary images and
discovers, in the form of a psycho-literary theory, what the author takes to
be the real secret of eloquence. Each of the two volumes advances a thesis,
explains it, discusses its applications in different rhetorical species, and
answers any adverse criticism which it might arouse. They survey the field
of Arabic literary criticism in the author's time, point out the lack of true
scientific thinking, and the preoccupation of authors with the non-essentials
in literary art, and try to lay the foundations for a new science which
would satisfy both the objective and the subjective aspects of literary apprecia-
tion. A modern reader of the two books feels inclined to presume that 'Abd
al-Qahir thought of literary composition in terms of its two-fold division of
structure and beauty. But it is also possible that when the author wrote his
first book he was mainly occupied with and guided by the thesis that eloquence
is a product of correct structure and signification. At a later stage, and per-
haps owing to other cultural influences and maturation of thought, he found
that an important aspect of literary art, namely, its impact on the reader
or the listener, still called for a separate and fuller treatment. The starting-
point in his line of thinking in al-Dala'il was the consideration of the place
of words and meanings in the art of expression. Some of the ancients, e.g.,
al-Jahiz, had considered eloquence to be mainly dependent on the quality
of the verbal elements, that is, the words. But, argued 'Abd al-Qahir, words
in themselves do not make language. They do so only when organized in a
system of construction according to the requirements of the meaning. The
important element in literary composition, then, is structure, and the essence
of structure is meaning. Once meanings are defined in the intellect in their
proper order, their verbal expressions follow faithfully in a determined
fashion. A literary composition achieves its end if it is properly and suitably
constructed. It becomes vague, obscure, complicated, and generally defective
when the verbal element does not harmonize with the meanings, or when
the meanings themselves are not clear and coherent in the mind of the speaker
or the writer. Hence it follows that our main concern in rhetoric should be
with techniques of structure, such as junction and disjunction, mention and
omission, definitiveness and indefinitiveness, etc. Our chief occupation here
should be the study of the characteristics of meanings in construction, which
is a combination of language and grammar. This new technique was ably and
effectively applied by 'Abd al-Qahir to the study of the Qur'anic composition,
1038
Arabic Literature : Theories of Literary Criticism
and consequently to the analysis and appreciation of specimens of the highest
literary models, and it yielded a complete system which later authors turned
into a definite rhetorical branch, namely, the science of meanings (ma'ani).
In this analysis of the Dala'il, 'Abd al-Qahir found himself repeatedly
resorting to the process of introspection, and suggesting that the best way
to discover the secret of literary excellence is to look inwardly into oneself
and find out what impressions, satisfactions, emotions, and excitements the
whole composition leaves on one's soul. It appears as if this aspect of literary
art directed 'Abd al-Qahir, in his second book Asrdr al-Baldghah, to go
deeper into the aesthetic side of literature and find out the secrets behind the
feeling of enjoyment produced by beautiful literary works. Thus, the field
of research was transferred to the laws of human thought. What goes on in
our minds and souls when we hear a beautiful literary passage ? Why do such
artifices as alliteration and assonance please us? And, why do such phenomena
as superfluity and obscurity of expression displease us ? What is the secret
behind the aesthetic effect of a good metaphor or a cleverly conceived com-
pound simile ? Which is more appealing to our taste — the spontaneous and
easy flowing poetry of al-Buhturi or the deep and meditative poetry of abu
Tammam ? And why ? If we can refer such questions to some inherent charac-
teristics in our perceptions and conceptions, in our cognition and imagination,
we can be assured of a solid foundation for a study of literary appreciation.
In this part of his inquiry 'Abd al-Qahir shifted the emphasis from constructing
the meaning to communicating it in an effective and pleasing manner. The
new domain of his study becomes the variety of ways and means for expressing
the meaning in an artistic fashion. In this he showed himself to be clearly
aware of the fact that literature is part of a wider field, namely, art. Occasionally
in his analysis and argumentation he would appeal to other fine arts such
as painting and sculpture. His approach in this second inquiry gave later
authors the basis for creating the two separate rhetorical sciences, the science
of exposition (bayan) and that of embellishment (badV). Put together, the
results of his two inquiries could be summarized as follows : (a) Excellence in
literature should be judged from the quality of the structure of the meaning
expressed and its pleasing effect on the mind and soul of the reader (or listener)
rather than from its verbal aspects, (b) The beauty of metaphors lies in the
fact that they give to style novelty, vigour, and movement, and that they
bring out the hidden shades into a perceptual relief, (c) Composite comparisons
by similitude please the human understanding for a variety of reasons: all
human souls enjoy being transferred from the hidden to the visible, from the
abstract to the concrete, and from what is known by reflection to what is
known intuitively or through sense-perception; man naturally enjoys seeing
different things unified by links of similarities, and the enjoyment is enhanced
when the discovery is reached after a reasonable amount of intellectual ac-
tivity — if the intellectual activity involved is too little or too exacting, the
enjoyment is diminished or marred ; the functions of the intellect are thinking,
1039
A History of Muslim Philosophy
reflection, analogy, and inference, and all these are exercised in creating and
perceiving relations between different things; the rhetorical figures are the
embodiments of all these considerations.
In assessing the value and place of 'Abd al-Qahir's contribution to the
theories of Arabic criticism, we must bear in mind two considerations: the
first is that certain Arab scholars of the flourishing period of the third/ninth
and fourth/tenth centuries did anticipate 'Abd al-Qahir in some aspects
of his theory. Al-Jahiz, for example, discussed at length the art of oratory
from the point of view of its relation to the audience and expressed, though
briefly, the idea that good speech affects the heart in a variety of ways. Al-
Qadi al-Jurjani also showed his interest in the psychology of literature and,
as mentioned earlier, analysed in a psychological fashion the poetical ability
into natural and acquired elements. The second consideration which has been
explored by modern research is that 'Abd al-Qahir must have been acquainted
with the Arabic versions of Aristotle's Poetica and Rhetoric where the First
Master probes the affective side of literature both in his treatment of tragedy
and in his exposition of the art of metaphor. These various probable anti-
cipations, however, do not diminish the claim of our later Arab author to
originality. It is to his lasting credit that in the sphere of a literary study he
tried to harmonize the rigour of scientific thinking with the spontaneity of
literary taste, and succeeded in this to a remarkable degree.
4. We do not come across another great figure in the study of rhetoric
during the fifth, sixth, and seventh centuries A.H., like 'Abd al-Qahir, nor
even a vigorous follower of the founder of the science to develop further his
ideas and widen the scope of their application, yet during this period much
was added to the wealth of Arab contribution to literary criticism, mostly in
general comprehensive surveys. One of the great minds of that period is ibn
Rashiq al-Qairawani (d. 436/1044), the author of a standard book on the art of
poetry entitled al-'Umdah fi Mahdsin al-Shi'r wa Addbih. It is one of the fullest
treatments of the technicalities of Arabic poetry and its principal kinds. Another
fifth/eleventh-century critic is ibn Sinan al-Khafaji al-Halabi {d. 466/1073), the
author of Sirr al-Fasahah. Ibn Sinan's chief contribution is in the domain
of linguistic criticism where he deals with the sounds of the Arabic language,
their classifications, and their characteristics. Al-Zamakhshari of Khwarizm
(d. 538/1144), the Qur'anic commentator, deserves a special mention here
because of his consistent application of the rhetorical approach to the explana-
tion and interpretation of the Qur'an. His book al-Kashshaf claims a high
place among the Qur'anic commentaries. He is also the compiler of Asas
al-Baldghah, an Arabic dictionary, which is unique in its attention to original
and metaphorical usages of the Arabic language. A later author and critic,
Dia' al-Din ibn al-Athir (d. 637/1239), left us a most valuable and interesting
book on the two arts, of the writer and of the poet, entitled al-Mathal al-Sd'ir.
He dealt with the literary art in two sections: one on verbal expression and
the other on meaning, and managed to include under these two headings all
Arabic Literature : Theories of Literary Criticism
the artifices and figures of speech which previous authors since the beginning
of the third/ninth century had been exploring, defining, and illustrating. He
also restated the problems of word and meaning, plagiarism, and norms of
comparison in a masterly manner, exhibiting searching, analytical power and
independence of thought. Moreover, he invented a practical method for the
training of the undeveloped literary talent, which relied on two factors: the
natural aptitude and the nourishing of the ability on classical models. The
method is explained in detail, and illustrated from the history of literature
as well as from the personal experience and literary works of the author.
Ibn al-Athir was so convinced of the originality and applicability of his method
that he claimed for himself the title of mujtahid or Imam in the same way
as the founders of Muslim schools of jurisprudence, Malik and al-Shafi'i. for
example, were regarded by posterity.
We may end this series of the great minds with Yahya ibn Hamzah al-
'Alawi (d. 729/1328), one of the Imams of Yemen and the author of al-Tiraz
al-Mviadammin li Asrar al-BcU&ghah wa l Ulum Haqd'iq al-Fjdz. The author
criticizes books on the subject of literary criticism for being too detailed and
thus tedious, or else too brief and consequently insufficient. He acclaims
'Abd al-Qahir as the founder of the science but confesses that he knew of his
two books only indirectly through references to them in the writings of other
scholars. He mentions some of the authors with whose books he was acquainted,
including ibn al-Athir. The motive for writing his book, he indicates, was to help
his students understand al-Zamakhsbari's approach to the Qur'anic exegesis
and i'jdz. According to al-'Alawi, the Arabic literary sciences are four: the
science of language which deals with the significance of separate words;
the science of grammar which deals with words in composition and predication ;
the science of syntax which deals with the morphology of single words and
their conformity to regular patterns in the Arabic language; and, lastly, the
combination of the two branches of Fasdhah and Baldghah which are called
ma'ani and baydn respectively, and which are the highest of the literary
sciences. After a long introduction, the book proceeds to deal theoretically
with the cardinal questions in the rhetorical sciences: such as truth and
metaphor, kinds of truth, kinds of significance, divisions of metaphor,
linguistic sounds, single words and compound words and their characteristics,
and requirements and examples of excellence in the various literary artifices.
But here we seem to have reached a parting of the ways between rhetoric
and criticism. The separation is supposed to have been started by abu Ya'qub
al-Sakkaki al-Khwarizmi (d. 626/1228), the author of Miftah al-'Ulum. He is
credited with the delineation of the boundaries of literary sciences in the
manner referred to above which al-'Alawi must have followed in al-Tiraz.
In the third division of these sciences, al-Sakkaki puts 'Urn al-ma'dni and
'ilm al-baydn conjointly, the first dealing with the characteristics of speech
composition by virtue of which they conform to the requirements of the
occasion, and the second with the different ways of expressing the meaning
A History of Muslim Philosophy
to complete the desired conformity. By this division al-Sakkaki seems to
have carried to a logical conclusion the distinction which 'Abd al-Qahir
indicated between questions of speech structure and composition and those
of signification and effectiveness. To this dual division, al-Sakkaki appended
a small section on the special aids to speech beautification, which later
became the domain of a third separate science, namely, badi'. This process
of narrowing the critical field to Balaghah and of demarcating its sciences
was completed and standardized a century later by al-Khatib al-Qazwini
(d. 739/1338) who condensed al-Sakkaki's Miftdk into a text-book called
Main al-Talkhis.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Ma'mar ibn al-Muthanna abu 'Ubaidah, Majaz Gltarib al-Qur'dn, Cairo ; al -Hasan
ibn Bishr al-Amidi, al-Muwdzanah baina Abi Tammam w-al-Buhturi, Cairo; abu
Hilal ai-'Askari, al-Sind'atain, Istanbul; abu Bakr al-Baqillani, Fjaz al-Qur'an,
Cairo; abu al-Faraj 'AH ibn al-Husain al-Isfahani, Kitab al-Aghdni, Cairo; abu
'Uthman 'Amr ibn Bahr al-Jahiz, al-Baydn w-al-Tabyin, Cairo; 'Abd al-Qahir al-
Jurjani, Asrar al-Balaghah, Cairo ; Dald'il al-Pjaz, Cairo ; Ahmad Mustafa al-Maraghi,
Tarihh 'Uliim cd-Baldgh(th, Cairo; al-Marsafi, al-Wasilah al-Adabiyyah, Cairo;
al-Khatib al-Qazwini, TalhhU al-Miftdh, Calcutta, Cairo; abu Ya'qub al-Sakkaki,
Miftah al-'Ulum, Cairo; Sa'd al-DIn al-Taftazani, al-Sharh al-Kabir, Constantinople ;
al-Sharh al-Saghir, Cairo, Calcutta; Garcin de Tassy, "La Rhetorique des Nations
Musulmanes," article in J. Asiatique, summarized from Hadd'iq al-Balaghah by
Amir Shams al-Din Faqir al-Dihlawi; al-Qadi abu al-Hasan 'Ali ibn 'Abd al-'Aziz
al- Jurjani, al-Wasdtah bain al-Mutanabbi wa Khusumuh, Cairo; T. A. Ibrahim,
Tarikh al-Naqd al-Adabi 'ind al-'Arab, Cairo; Dia' al-Din ibn al-Athir, al-Mathal
al-Sd'ir, Cairo; 'Abd Allah ibn al-Mu'tazz, Kitab al-Badi', London, Cairo; abu
Muhammad 'Abd Allah ibn Muslim ibn Qutaibah, Mushkil al-Qur'an, Cairo; al-
Hasan ibn Rashiq, al-'Umdah, Cairo; abu 'Abd Allah Muhammad ibn Sallam,
Tabaqat Fuhul al-Shu'ard'. Cairo; ibn Sinan al-Khafaji, Sirr al-Fasdhah, Cairo;
Muhammad Khalafallah, Min al-Wijha al-Nafslyyah, Cairo; "Badi"' (article
in Encyclopaedia of Islam, new ed.); "Qur'anic Studies as an Important Factor in
the Development of Arabic Literary Criticism" (article in Alexandria University
Faculty of Arts Bulletin, 1952); '"Abd al-Qahir's Theory in His Secrets of Elo-
quence" (article in Journal of Near Eastern Studies, 1955, U.S.A.); M. Mandur,
al-Naqd al-Mankaji Hnd al-'Arab, Cairo ; Sayyed Nauful, al-Balaghah al-'Arabiyyah
fi Daur Nashatih, Cairo; Qudamah ibn Ja'far, Naqd al-8hi'r, Cairo; Naqd al-
Natkr, Cairo; I. A. Richards, The Philosophy of Rhetoric, London; J. Barthelemy
Saint-Hilaire, Rhetorique d'Aristote, Paris; George Saintsbury, A History of Criticism
and Literary Taste in Europe, London; Gustave von Grunebaum, Arabic Literary
Criticism in 10th Century A.D., London; M. Zaghlul Sallam, Athar al-Qur'an fi
Tatawwur al-Naqd al- l Arabi, Cairo; Did' al-Din Ibn al-Athir wa Juhud fi al-Naqd,
Cairo.
i Literature
Chapter LIII
PERSIAN LITERATURE
A
PERSIAN LITERATURE OF EARLY TIMES
The earliest remnant of the Aryan languages of Iran which antiquity has
bequeathed to us is the language of the Avesta, the sacred book of the Zoro-
astrian religion.
For about nine hundred years the people of Iran had no script in which
they could write the Avesta. So they continued to learn it by heart and thus
communicate it from generation to generation right from the seventh century
B.C. to the third century A.D.
A special script was at last invented for this book in the third century
A.D. The Avesta written in this particular script has been known as the
Zend Avesta. At times it has been just mentioned as the Zend. The French
scholar Anquetil du Perron who was the first to have studied it in India
at the end of the twelfth/eighteenth century, introduced it to the West. For
a considerable time it continued to be known as the Zend language in Europe.
At present, however, the more accurate term of "Avestic language" is in
vogue. The script in which the Avesta was recorded should be known as the
"Zend script."
Much has been speculated on the origin and times of Zoroaster, and different
theories have been advanced in this respect from the earliest times. What
appears to be most authentic at present, however, is that Zoroaster preached
his religion between 660 and 583 B.C. in the north-eastern zone of the Iranian
plateau in Central Asia. It is plausible that he sprang from the Median stock,
lived in the north-west of the present-day Iran, and from there he travelled
east to Central Asia. Of the extant languages and dialects of the Iranian
plateau Pashto or Pakhto has the closest affinity with the Avestic language.
This lends support to the view that the Avestic language was spoken in the
north-eastern regions of the Iranian plateau in the seventh century B.C.
The Avesta is a massive work, a major portion of which has been destroyed
and forgotten owing to the vicissitudes of time and the domination of Iran
by foreign nations. What remains today of this book was compiled in the
early days of the Christian era. It comprises fifteen out of the twenty-one
original parts and if the extinct parts were proportionate in volume to those
present about one-fourth of the book may be said to have perished.
From the philological point of view, the extant parts of the Avesta were
not written in one period of history. On the contrary, its composition may
be divided into three sections. The Gathas, which are composed in poetry,
doubtlessly constitute the earliest part of the book. The Avesta is a collection
1043
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of the Canon Laws and decrees of the Zoroastrian faith which were formulated
in diiferent ages. The last of these is contemporaneous with the rise of the
Acbaemenian power in the sixth century B.C. Possibly when Old Persian,
i.e., the language of the coins and inscriptions of the Achaemenians, was
current in the western and southern regions of the country, namely, Media
and Parsa, Avestic happened to be the language of the eastern or at any rate
of the north-eastern provinces of Iran.
Philologically speaking, the Avestic language runs parallel to and is con-
temporaneous with Sanskrit and, apparently, the origin of both these languages
can be traced back to yet another ancient language which was perhaps the
original language of the Indo-Iranian Aryan stock.
The language of the coins and inscriptions of the Achaemenians, ever since
they came to power in the middle of the sixth century B.C., is distinctly
Aryan in character and is known as Old Persian. This language is also con-
temporaneous with Avestic, and' the growth and development of the two
dates back to the same age. There are reasons to believe that when Avestic
was passing through the early stages of development in the eastern provinces
of the Iranian plateau the Old Persian language was also making headway
in the west and south-west of Iran.
With the establishment of the Achaemenian Empire the people of Iran
suddenly found themselves to be the neighbours of various Semitic
nations of western Asia including the regions of western Iran. The Semitic
languages made an inroad into the country and their influence was so strong
that the Aramaic language and script were officially adopted by the Iranians.
The Achaemenian kings were men of liberal views and they granted full
freedom of bebef to their subject races as well as liberty to develop their
own languages. That is why the cuneiform Achaemenian inscriptions are
recorded not only in Old Persian but also a parallel translation of the same
runs in the Syriac, Elamite, Nabataean, and Aramaic languages.
The establishment of the Achaemenian Empire saw the people of western
Iran divided into two main groups, namely, the Medes and the Persians
("Parsis"). It appears certain that either they spoke the same tongue, i.e.,
Old Persian, or their languages had very close kinship with each other. We
find no traces of the Median language in the Achaemenian inscriptions.
Apparently, if the Medes had spoken a different language, the Achaemenian
emperors who had employed the Syriac, Elamite, and Nabataean languages in
their inscriptions would certainly not have ignored Median. Moreover, a
couple of words of this language and the names of the Median chiefs that
have come down to us suffice to establish the close affinity of Median with
Old Persian.
From 330 B.C. when the Macedonians conquered Iran, Greek became the
official language of the country and continued to enjoy that status for a
long time. Right down to the Christian era Greek is the only language to be
seen in the Seleucid and Parthian writings. Needless to say that during this
1044
Persian Literature
span of three centuries and a half the Iranian languages continued to flourish.
Old Persian, however, is an exception, which gradually went out of use. We
can witness definite marks of decay in the Old Persian writings of the later
Achaemenian period in contrast with those of the earlier one.
At the dawn of the Christian era we find two languages in the Iranian
plateau running parallel to each other. One of these grew and developed in
the eastern regions. This has always been called "Dari" by the Iranians.
The other which flourished in the western parts of the country was known
as "Pahlawi." These two languages have come down to our own times. Many
dialects of "Dari" still continue to exist in the eastern regions of the Iranian
plateau as far as the Chinese frontiers ; the most important of these are spoken
in the Pamir region.
The Pahlawi language has lived in the form of verse known as "Fahlaviy-
yat," in the books written in Persian on the art of poetry and in dialects
spoken in the north, south, and west of the country.
The above-mentioned two languages have very intimate relationship and
these have apparently stemmed from the same origin. A number of Aramaic
words, however, entered Pahlawi and these have been known as "Huzvaresh"
or "Zuwarishn." These words found their way also into books of lexicography.
In the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent these have been erroneously given the
name of the "Zend and Pazand" language. "Dari" was too far away to receive
the impact of the Aramaic language. On the contrary, it accepted the influence
of the eastern languages such as Tukhari. Sughdian, and Khwarizmi.
At first the Aramaic script was adopted for both the languages. Later,
however, a change took place and certain Aramaic letters were put together
in Pahlawi to form what later came to be known the Pahlawi script.
The Orientalists did not fully grasp the significance of these subtle technical
differences and they have been treating old Pahlawi and Dari as one language.
Consequently, they have been employing the terms Northern Pahlawi or the
Parthian Pahlawi for the later language. In recent times, however, some
of them have defined it as the Parthian language whereas Pahlawi itself has
been referred to as the Southern or Sassanian Pahlawi.
The number of the extant pre-Islamic works of these two languages is
very small. The most important ancient work in Dari consists of the Manichaean
texts and translation of parts of the Avesta into old Dari known as "Pazand."
The contemporary Dari has also been employed in some of the inscriptions
of Sassanian kings.
Both Dari and Pahlawi possessed literature of their own before the advent
of Islam. This literature, unfortunately, has not come down to us.
The history of the earliest Iranian dynasties during the Islamic period
begins from the year 205/820. The dynasties which sprang up in the eastern
regions raised the structure of their national politics on the basis of language.
Since the language of these tracts was "Dari," the literature produced in it
was bound to outshine Pahlawi literature.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
In 429/1038 the Saljuq Turks poured out of Turkestan to invade Iran.
They gradually conquered the whole country. Since they hailed from the
east and their officials also belonged to this region, it was natural that they
should adopt "Dari Persian" as their Court language, which they carried to
the farthest corners of Iran. Consequently, in the first quarter of the fifth/
eleventh century, Dari had attained the status of the common literary language
of the whole country. It gained supremacy in other regions also where Pahlawi
had been the popular spoken language till then. From this date Dari became
the undisputed literary language of Iran and, like many other dialects pre-
valent in the country, Pahlawi was reduced to the status of a dialect. The
last vestiges of Pahlawi in the form of inscriptions and coins in Tabaristan
in the north of Iran date back to the middle of the fifth/eleventh century.
The first specimens of Pahlawi literature which belong to the early centuries
of the Hijrah consist of a number of books of religious nature which the
Iranian Zoroastrians had written with the specific object of preserving their
Canon Law. These books were taken to the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent
when the Zoroastrians migrated there. European scholars have been publishing
their texts since the last century. Amongst these, certain books are claimed
to have belonged originally to the pre-Islamic Sassanian era. There is ample
evidence, however, to prove that these were composed during the Islamic
period.
What is now known of Pahlawi literature is confined to these very books
and treatises. They suggest that Pahlawi literature had, at any rate towards
the end of the Sassanian period, flourished on a vast scale. It is an undeniable
fact that, while during the four hundred years which immediately preceded
the Saljuq period, Dari had been recognized as the literary language of the
country, Pahlawi had flourished in the north, south, and west of the present-
day Iran. Of this only a specific form of verse known as "Fahlaviyyat" has
come down to us, the quatrains of Baba. Tahir-i 'Uryan of Hamadan being
its most remarkable specimen.
THE BEGINNING OF MODERN PERSIAN LITERATURE
The present-day language of Iran is the latest evolutionary form of "Dari"
and is known as "Farsi" or the Persian language. The people of Iran them-
selves, however, have always employed the word "Persian" for whatever lan-
guages have flourished in the country. In the past the two languages under
discussion which flourished simultaneously have been known as the "Dari
Persian" and the "Pahlawi Persian."
The Persian language of today, namely, Dari, originated, as mentioned
above, during the Muslim period in the east of Iran. The important centres
of this language were the cities of Transoxiana and Khurasan, to wit, Samar-
qand, Bukhara, Balkh, Merv, Herat, Tus, and Nishapur. These centres
Persian Literature
extended even to Sistan. This explains why the most eminent poets of this
language down to the Saljuq period hailed from these particular cities. Gradually,
Dari expanded from Khurasan and Transoxiana to other parts of Iran, so that
by the Ghaznawid period it had extended to Gurgan, Damghan, and Rayy,
and by the Saljuq era it had travelled as far away as Adharbaijan, Isbahan,
and Hamadan. In the province of Fars it did not achieve the status of a
popular language even in the days of Sa'di and Hafiz. That is why these two
great poets have revelled in the mastery of this language and in the expres-
sion of their poetic genius through it. Both of them also composed verse in
the Pahlawi dialect of Fars, popularly known as the Shirazi language.
The rules of prosody of Arabic poetry were formulated by Khalil ibn
Ahmad. These were assiduously observed by the Iranian writers in their Per-
sian works. Considerable literature was produced on the subject both in Iran
and in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent. Consequently, the same Arabic names
were retained for Persian metres and rhymes, so much so that even the same
Arabic word afa'il was employed for purposes of scansion. Metres can be
classified into three groups, i.e., metres common to both Arabic and Persian,
metres which were the outcome of the Iranian genius and did not exist earlier,
and metres which were, on the reverse, typical of and exclusive to Arabic
poetry.
Amongst the exclusively Persian metres the most well-known is the one
employed in the quatrains of Baba Tahir 'Uryan of Hamadan. In the pre-
Islamic times right up to the Achaemenian period the only verse known was
the blank verse. Specimens of poetry preserved in the A vesta and Old Persian
are all composed in blank verse. This type of poetry was also in vogue in
Pahlawi and Dari, the two languages so closely related to each other.
The forms of Persian verse have also an independent character and they
have not always followed the Arabic pattern. The "mathnawi," "tar jV -band,"
"tarkib-band," "musammat," "muthallath,"' "murabba'," "muM&mmas,"
"mustazad," and "ruM'i" are all exclusive to Persian poetry, and they have
originated solely in the Persian genius. Persian verse has also influenced
Urdu and Turkish poetry. Similarly, the rhymed verse and many figures of
speech owe their origin to the creative genius of the Iranian mind. "Muwashshah"
and "mulamma"' are also Persian in origin.
DIFFERENT EPOCHS OF PERSIAN POETRY
The oldest extant specimens of Persian verse date back to the middle of
the third/ninth century. But these fragments are not sufficient to afford us
a true picture of the contemporary Persian poetry. What emerges beyond
doubt, however, is the fact that the Tahirids (205/820-259/872) and later
the Saffarids (254/867-296/908) played a worthy role in ushering in a new
era of Persian literature.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Throughout the fourth/tenth century Persian literature continued to flourish
with remarkable success at the Samanid Court and in the vast regions lying
between the Chinese frontiers and Gurgan on the Caspian Sea. The Court of
Nasr bin Ahmad, the Samanid ruler, is especially famous for the large number
of poets associated with it. Since then the current of Persian literature has
flowed continuously.
Modern Persian poetry, in its earliest stages, was characterized by a note
of realism. The realist school held its own for two hundred years till the end
of the fifth/eleventh century. The greatest Iranian poets of this school who
flourished during the fourth/tenth century were Rudaki (329/941), Shahid
Balkhi (325/937), and Daqiqi (341/952). Early in the sixth/twelfth century
it gave way to naturalism. In the meanwhile the Iranian Sufis had discovered
in poetry a most suitable vehicle to disseminate their philosophical message
to the people. Sufism or Islamic mysticism had become popular in Iraq in
the middle of the second/eighth century. In its earliest stages it merely laid
emphasis on piety and godliness and no elaborate system had yet evolved.
Kufah and Basrah were the earliest centres of this movement. Later,
however, Baghdad stole the limelight and became associated with great names
in mysticism. From Baghdad it spread out in two directions, viz., North
Africa and the "Maghrib" on the one side and north-east of Iran, that is,
Khurasan and Transoxiana on the other. In the West it came to be linked
up with Greek thought, especially with Neo-Platonism and with certain
Israelite doctrines. In the East, especially in Khurasan and Transoxiana, it
developed kinship with the teachings of Manichaeism and Buddhism which
had enjoyed wide popularity in these regions for centuries. From here it
travelled to India and developed in what may be called the Indo-Iranian
school of mysticism. This latter school gained immense popularity and through
Iran it spread to Western Asia and even to North Africa. It still continues to
exist in the entire Islamic world from the borders of China to Morocco. The
great mystics of Iran chose Persian for imparting their noble thoughts
to all classes of people. That is why most of the books of the Indo-Iranian
school of mysticism were written in Persian prose or verse and the language
of mysticism in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent has always been Persian.
Symbolism inevitably enjoys profound importance in the mystic cult. For
fear of opposition at the hands of the devout the mystic poets were constrained
to express their views and beliefs in the language of symbols. They were, thus,
destined to contribute to ths special school of symbolism in Persian poetry.
This tradition still lives in mystic verse, no matter Persian, Urdu, or Turkish.
The earliest amongst the great Sufis to compose verse in this fashion
is the celebrated poet abu Sa'id abu al-Khair (357/967-440/1049). Sana'i
(437/1046-525/1131), Farid al-Dln 'Attar (627/1229), and Maulana Jalal al-
Din Rumi, (604/1208-672/1273) may be considered the greatest of the
symbolists among the poets of Iran. Hadiqat al-Haqtqah of Sana'i, Mantiq
al-Tair of 'Attar and the Mathnawi of Rumi may be regarded as the most
Persian Literature
important books of mysticism ever written in Persian. On account of this
great tradition Persian poetry produced during the whole of this period in
Iran and the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent is steeped in mysticism. The recital
of this kind of verse in the assemblies of prayer and devotion among
different sects of Sufis, at times to the tune of music and occasionally to
the accompaniment of dance, has been regarded as one of the most important
observances of the mystical creed. Even men who did not belong to any
school of mysticism had to compose, whether they liked it or not, their
poetical works, especially their "ghazals," in a mystical strain.
Mystic poetry of Iran and the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent forms a subject
that requires a very elaborate discussion. In fact, it is one of the most pro-
found literary and philosophical themes of all times. The Iranian mystics,
apart from expounding the fundamental doctrines and essential principles
which have deep academic and philosophical significance and are the especial
concern of those wholly steeped in mysticism, have also instructed the common
folk on what is popularly termed as generosity and manliness (futuw-
wat). This teaching mainly consisted of certain moral precepts and aimed
at inculcating amongst the common mass of people the feeling of manliness,
courage, forgiveness, and generosity, and might be compared with the institu-
tion of knighthood or chivalry prevalent in Europe in the Middle Ages. Many
books were produced on this subject in Arabic and Persian and these have
been known as books of generosity and manliness (Futuiowat Ndmeh). This
particular institution travelled from Iran to all the Islamic countries as far
away as North Africa and the "Maghrib" and it still lives in many parts of
these lands.
It may be pointed out that mystical verse in the Persian language has
provided the civilized humanity with the most cosmopolitan type of poetry,
and this branch of Persian literature excels all other kinds of poetry both
in sweep and charm.
In pre-Islamic Iran epic poetry and national sagas had always enjoyed
wide popularity. In the Islamic period this tradition was not only maintained
but it also received further impetus. Initiated by a few earlier poets it found
its culmination in Firdausl's (411/1020) great classic Shah Ndmeh, which
remains to be one of the most outstanding epic poems of all times. He com-
pleted its first narrative in 384/994, and the second in 400/1010. In this field,
as in many others, Persian literature is immensely rich. A number of epic poems
were composed in successive ages in Iran and in the Indo-Pakistan sub-
continent, and this tradition was maintained till a century and a half ago.
Amongst the most important of these are, chronologically speaking, Garshdsp
Ndmek of Asadi (465/1073) which was completed in 458/1066, Wls-o Ramin
of Fakhr al-Dln Asad of Gurgan (middle of the fifth century A. H.) } and the
quintet (khamseh) of Nizami of Ganjeh who remained devoted to its com-
position from 572/1176 to 599/1202. Nizami's style in epic poetry won especial
favour both at home and in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent and a number
1049
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of poets wrote under his unique influence, amongst the most notable of
them being Amir Khusrau of Delhi (651/1253-725/1325), Khwaju-i Kirmani
(689/1290-763/1362), and Jami (817/1414-898/1493). This typical epic style
has left a deep impress on the Turkish language, and many Turkish poets
have imitated it, some of them merely translating the same contents into their
own language. Amongst these may be counted the epic poems of Mir 'Ali
Sher Nawa'i (844/1440-960/1500) composed in the Chaghata'i, i.e., the eastern
dialect of Turkish, and the epics of Fuzuli of Baghdad (970/1562) in the
Azari, i.e., the western dialect of the Turkish language.
Amongst the other chief characteristics of Persian poetry are the composition
of philosophical verse and the introduction of philosophical generalities in
poetry composed in simple language. We have it on the authority of the oldest
specimens of Persian poetry that poetry and philosophy had forged a close
link together ever since Persian poetry originated in Khurasan and Trans-
oxiana. The most important book on practical philosophy to have gained
immense popularity amongst Muslims in general and the Iranians in particular
in the early Islamic period was Kalileh wa Dimneh which was at first
translated from the original Sanskrit work Panchatantra into Pahlawi and
presumably brought to Iran in the sixth century A.D. in the reign
of Khusrau Anushirwan (Nushirwan the Just). It was translated from Pah-
lawi into Syriac about the same time. In the early Islamic period the famous
Iranian scholar ibn al-Muqaflfa' rendered it from Pahlawi into Arabic. It was
later versified by Rudaki, the greatest poet of the Samanid period and one
of the great names in Persian poetry in its whole history of the last twelve
hundred years. Only a few couplets of this long poem have survived.
Another book which dealt with practical philosophy like Kallleh wa Dimneh
was the famous work Sindbad Nameh. This was also rendered into verse
by Rudaki. That is why his name has been prefixed with Hakim or philo-
sopher since old. This also suggests that there was a considerable element
of philosophy in his poetical works. Another great contemporary of Rudaki,
namely, Shahid Balkhi, was known as one of the famous philosophers of his
time. He had also entered upon a controversy with yet another famous
physician-philosopher Muhammad bin Zakariya Razi and composed some
treatises in refutation of his views. Afterwards many Iranian poets expounded
valuable philosophical themes in their works and were known as philosophers.
Kisa'i of Merv was one of them. Firdausi and 'Unsuri also enjoyed the title
of Hakim or philosopher for having introduced philosophical themes in their
works. The great poet Nasir Khusrau (394/1004-481/1088) expounded philo-
sophical thought in all his poetical works in addition to a few books of philo-
sophy that he wrote in Persian prose from the Isma'ilite point of view. The
Isma'ilites of Iran always attached great importance to the Persian language in
disseminating and inculcating amongst others the philosophy of their own
sect. That is why they were even known as the "educationists" or "Ta'limites."
The poets of this sect always introduced an element of philosophy in their
1050
Persian Literature
works. Amongst the eminent Iranian philosophers and thinkers, Persian verse
has been ascribed to abu Nasr Farabi (d. 339/950), ibn Sina (d. 428/1037),
Khwajah Nasir al-Bin Tusi (597/1201-672/1274), Imam Fakhr al-Din Razi
(554/1159-606/1209), Afdal al-Din Kashani (d. 615/1218), Shihab al-Din
Suhrawardi Maqtiil (d. 587/1191), Jalal al-Din Dawwani (830/908-1426/1502-
1503), Mir Sayyid Sharif Gurgani (740/816-1339/1413), Mir Muhammad Baqir
Damad (d. 1041/1631), Sadr al-Din Shjrazi,i.e.,MuUaSadra(d. 1050/1640-1641),
and Haji Mulla Hadi Sabziwari (1212/1295-1797/1878). One can say that
there was hardly any philosopher in Iran who did not express his beliefs in
poetry. Some of them like Afdal al-Din Kashani composed a considerable
amount of verse. Philosophical thought also found expression in the quatrains
of the famous scholar and philosopher 'Umar Khayyam (d. 517/1123-1124). The
collection of these quatrains forms today one of the most famous books in
the world, and has been translated into almost all the civilized languages
including many dialects of Pakistan and India. One of the most important
features with which we are confronted in Persian literature, irrespective of
prose or poetry, is the effort on the part of the Iranian philosophers to effect
a close harmony between Greek thought, i.e., the philosophy of Socrates,
Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus, the Stoics, Zeno, and scepticism as well as a part
of the philosophical teachings imparted in Alexandria and Edessa, and the
fundamentals of Islam. Some of them harmonized mysticism with philosophy
and divine Law, and in this field Persian is decidedly the richest language
in the world.
In the eighth/fourteenth century Hafiz, the great immortal poet of Iran, while
following the naturalist school which had reached its highest point of glory
in Rumi's poetry (606/1200-691/1292) laid the foundation of impressionism
in Persian poetry. This school did not find its roots in Iran for about a hun-
dred years and it was only at the end of the ninth/fifteenth century that
a few great Persian poets lent it a new charm and colour. This was the time when
the Mughul dynasty had reached the height of its power and splendour in
the Indo- Pakistan sub-continent. Persian enjoyed the status of official language
of the Mughul Court. All notable men of the sub-continent had fully imbibed
Persian culture in all walks of life. Every year a large number of Iranian
intellectuals and artists would travel to the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent
either to settle down there permanently or to make it a temporary home.
These scholars introduced this school of poetry in India where it won immense
popularity. It found its highest expression at the Courts of Jalal al-Din Akbar
(r. 963/1556-1014/1605) and his successors, namely, Jahangir (r. 1014/1605-
1037/1628), Shahjahan (r. 1037/1628-1068/1658), and Aurangzib (r. 1069/1658-
1118/1707). Under the patronage of these Courts, rich and exquisite works
of poetry were produced. There is a large number of poets who attained
eminence in this style, popularly known in Iran as the Indian School of poetry.
Among them 'Urfi (963/1556-999/1591), Naziri (1023/1614), Zuhuri (1024/
1615), Talib Amuli (1036/1627), Qudsi (1056/1646), Kalim (1061/1651), and
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Sa'ib (1012/1603-1083/1672) had been attracted from Iran and they provided
both stimulus and schooling to numerous well-known poets of the local
origin. The most brilliant amongst this galaxy of poets were Faidi (953/1546-
1004/1596), abu al-Barakat Munir (1055/1645-1099/1688), Ghani (1072/1661),
Nasir 'Ali (1108/1696), Ghammat (1107/1695), Ni'mat Khan 'Ali (1121/1709),
Bidil (1134/1722), Nur al-'Ain Waqif (1190/1776), Siraj al-Din 'Ali Khan
Arzu (1169/1756), Ghalib (1213/1798-1285/1868), 'Ubaidi Suhrawardi (1306/
1889), Shibli Nu'mani (1274/1857-1332/1914), Girami (1345/1926), and many
others. The literary tradition bequeathed by them still lives in the Indo-
Pakistan sub-continent.
The last great poet of the Persian language in the Indo-Pakistan sub-
continent was Muhammad Iqbal (1289/1873-1357/1938) who infused a new
life in Persian poetry, rejected the impressionist school that had preceded
him, and revived the symbolist traditions with magnificent results.
In Iran a new movement in poetry made itself manifest at the end of the
twelfth/eighteenth century which promised pastures anew. As a consequence,
most of the poets returned to naturalism. The tendency to revitalize and
revivify Persian verse and to bring it closer to Western poetry, is distinctly
visible in Iran. There are even attempts at going to such extremes as sur-
realism. The younger Iranian poet is, however, passing through a period of
transition and has yet to determine his final attitude. Nevertheless, one comes
across exquisite pieces of poetry produced by some of the poets and
poetesses of the younger generation. This augurs well for a great future. It
is not unlikely that a new school of poetry will emerge before long.
One who wishes to study the evolution of Persian poetry and its different
schools and styles in minute detail will perforce have to make a deep study
of the works of quite a few hundred poets of Iran, Afghanistan, Central Asia,
Pakistan, India, and Turkey— men who selected this language as their medium
of expression and stuck to the Iranian tradition of poetry.
It may be observed that all the important poets of Persian language, whether
they were of the Iranian or Indo-Pakistani origin, or whether they hailed
from certain Central Asian and Caucasian regions formerly treated as parts
of Iran, were Muslims. Only with regard to Daqiqi, the celebrated poet of
the Samanid period, it has been contested by a few scholars that he belonged
to the Zoroastrian faith. But even this cannot be taken for granted. In the '
eighth/fourteenth century, however, a Zoroastrian poet Bahrain bin Puzhdu
rendered two books of the Zoroastrian religion into verse, namely Zartusht
Nameh and Arda Viraf Nameh.
PERSIAN PROSE
Modern Persian is today one of the richest
retains a link, close or distant, with all the Aryan
in the world. It
in the East as
Persian Literature
well as those in the West. It, thus, bears a close resemblance to all these
languages in respect of grammar, syntax, and composition. However, on
account of the deep attachment of the Iranian scholars to Islamic learning
and sciences on the one hand and to Arabic language on the other, Persian
became progressively a richer and vaster language.
In the middle of the first/seventh century when the people of Iran embraced
Islam, the Arabic language gained a complete hold on that country. It came
to be looked upon not only as the language of religion but also one of arts
and letters. During the early period of the 'Abbasid Caliphate when a strong
movement was launched to produce scientific and literary works in Arabic,
the Iranians played a very important role in it. They were also conspicuous
in rendering translations of Pahlawi, Syriac, and at times even Greek works.
They also composed a large number of original works in Arabic. After
this Arabic became so widely popular and gained such an immense hold
on Iran that the most important books in the field of Arabic grammar and
lexicography were written by the Iranians. Many of the Persian poets com-
posed Arabic verse and some of their works have been acknowledged amongst
the finest and most exquisite specimens of Arabic poetry. The Iranian philo-
sophers adoptedArabic as the medium of their expressionfrom the very beginning.
Only a few of them ever attempted to compose their philosophical works in
Persian. Books produced in Iran on the subjects of astronomy, mathematics,
and medicine were mostly written in Arabic. Some of the Iranian historians
also selected Arabic as theirvehicle of expression. Most of the religious literature,
including jurisprudence (Fiqh), Hadlth, and commentary on the Holy Qur'an,
was also produced in Arabic. From the earliest Islamic period the Persian
language had imported Arabic elements. Especially in the domain of technical
terms Persian was completely overwhelmed by Arabic. Incidentally, the
Iranians have given special meanings to many Arabic words which have also
passed into Urdu in their changed Persianized sense. The overwhelming
influence of Arabic on the Persian language is traceable in different epochs
of Iranian history.
However, we find that some of the great scholars of Iran like ibn Slna,
Nasir Khusrau, Afdal al-Din Kashani, and abu Raihan al-Biruni have at times
shown in their Persian works a tendency to coin fresh Persian words instead
of employing the current technical and scientific Arabic terms. Certain other
writers have also shown a tendency to employ new compound epithets of
purely Persian origin in their works. The outstanding specimens of this trend
in the Indo-Pakistani Persian literature are visible in A'in-i Akbari of abu
al-Fadl.
The excessive use of Arabic words in Persian prose started in the fifth/
eleventh century. Kalileh wa Dimneh which was rendered into Persian by
Nasr Allah b. 'Abd al-Hamid from the Arabic version of ibn al-Muqaffa' may be
regarded as the first specimen of this type of writing. Amongst other books
written in this style may be enumerated Marzban Nameh of Sa'd al-Din of
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Varavin, Tarikh-i Wassaf, Tdrlkh-i Mu'jam, and Durrah-i Nadirah, the last
being the work of Mirza Mahdi Khan, the historian of the Court of Nadir
Sh»h. But the number of such books is very small. In fact, ninety-nine Persian
books out of one hundred have been written in simple and direct style and they
have always reflected the contemporary idiom, except where a writer has
deliberately digressed from the natural style to employ Arabic phrases, a
tendency which had been regarded as a kind of literary treat.
As a result of the systematic development of Persian poetry and use of
symbolism, Persian prose evolved a new style in which the writer would
lay the highest emphasis on allusions, metaphors, and rhetorical devices. We
notice the same trend in the recent prose styles of some European languages.
This exceedingly sophisticated style of Persian prose in which the content
was obscured by vague rhetoric and long and repetitious sentences reached
its zenith in the ninth/fifteenth and tenth/sixteenth centuries. It also
penetrated into the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent where we find in Seh Nathr-i
Zuhuri and Rasa'il-i Tughra-i Mashhadi its most outstanding specimens.
This style won remarkable popularity in the field of Court documents,
royal commands and decrees, and official correspondence. The tradition
passed on to the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent and found its finest expression
in Manshaat-i Abu al-Fadl Alldmi. It also found its way to Turkey and
during this period the official correspondence of the Ottoman Caliphs was
wholly conducted in the same style as that in Persian. This "Court style"
originated in Iran in the sixth/twelfth century, enjoyed a large, uninterrupted
era of popularity and found its best specimen in Manshaat-i Mirza Tdhir
Wahid composed in the eleventh/seventeenth century. It was, however, dealt
a fatal blow by Mirza abu al-Qasim Qa'im Maqam Farahani {1193/1779-
1251/1835) whose prose was distinguished for the simplicity and purity of
its style.
The contemporary Persian prose has a highly simple, facile, and elegant
expression. It has freed itself from the conventional ornate and abstruse
style. Today it has drawn itself far closer to the idiomatic and colloquial
Persian expression than ever before.
During the long history of Persian prose a very large number of books
have been written in all branches of knowledge such as jurisprudence, com-
mentary on the Holy Qur'an, scholastic theology, mysticism, philosophy,
medicine, mathematics, astronomy, arts, ethics, tales and fables, and even
such subjects as handicrafts. However, a majority of prose works in Persian
have always been confined to history and practical ethics. That also explains
why all books on the history of the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent during the
Islamic period have been produced in Persian. On this very account some know-
ledge of Persian may be regarded as an essential prerequisite for learning
the history of some of the Asian countries. In fact, Persian literature may
be divided into poetry and history as its two main component parts.
Persian Literature
PERSIAN GRAMMAR AND LEXICOGRAPHY
For a long time the Iranians paid no heed to Persian grammar since they
were no strangers to the rules of their mother tongue. The only expositions
of Persian grammar in the past consisted of brief notices which some of the
lexicographers would include in the prefaces to their works. The compilation
of grammatical works started in right earnest when during the Mughul rule
in India Persian became the literary as well as the Court language of the
Muslims of the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent. That is why books on this
subject were for a considerable time confined mostly to the Indo-Pakistan
sub-continent alone.
In the field of Persian lexicography as in grammar, not much interest was
shown in the past. The works produced contained a rather limited number
of uncommon words employed in poetry. When a proof was required regarding
the authenticity of a certain word, it was furnished from the couplets in which
it had been used.
It is quite apparent that at first the necessity for such dictionaries arose
in the western parts of Iran where Dari was not the language of the people.
The first dictionary to have ever been produced in Persian was compiled
by Qatran Urumawi, the famous poet who lived in Tabriz and died in 465/
1075. This book is now extinct. After him Asadi of Tiis, who also lived in
Adharbaijan and died in the same year as Qatran, completed his famous
dictionary which is the oldest extant work on the subject.
As mentioned earlier, the Saljuqs had carried their official language, Dari,
right into Adharbaijan in the wake of their conquests. Since the people of
this province spoke Pahlawi, they found it difficult to understand meanings
of certain words which were familiar to Dari but did not exist in Pahlawi.
Hence the urge to compile these works in Adharbaijan.
The most important role in the compilation of dictionaries was undoubtedly
played by lexicographers of the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent. During the
Mughul period the Court language of the Empire was Persian. People, for
whom it was not the mother tongue, stood in need of books for guidance and
help. In the eleventh/seventeenth century special attention was paid to
this work, though dictionaries had been in the process of compilation
since a hundred years earlier.
For a long time the works of the Indo-Pakistani lexicographers or those
of the Iranian scholars who had migrated to the sub-continent continued to
be the most authentic source of reference even for the Iranians themselves.
The most outstanding of these books are Farhang-i Jahangiri of Jamal al-Dln
Inju, Farhang-i RaskUi of 'Abd al-Rashid of Thatta, Burhdn-i Qdti' of Muham-
mad Husain Tabrizi, Asif al-Lughat of 'Aziz Jang Bahadur, BaMr-i 'Ajam
of Tek Chand Bahar, Ghiragh-i Hiddyat of Siraj al-Dln 'Ali Khan Arzu,
Ohiydth al-Lughat of Muhammad Ghiyath al-Din, Farhang-i Anand Raj of
1055
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Muhammad Padshah Shad, and Mustalihdt al-8ku'ara' compiled by Varasteh.
The number of lexicographical works compiled in the Indo-Pakistan sub-
continent exceeds one hundred of which the oldest, viz., Adah al-Fudala' of
Qadi Khan Badr Muhammad of Delhi, was completed in 822/1419. In other
words, the period during which these works were diligently and assiduously
produced extends to about five hundred years.
The necessity of compiling such dictionaries was also felt in Turkey where
Persian enjoyed the status of a literary language at the Turkish Court of the
Ottoman Caliphs and many a Turkish scholar produced literary works and
composed poetry in Persian, so much so that even some of the Turkish
emperors composed poetry in this language. As a consequence, a few dictionaries,
to wit, Lughat-i Ilalimi, Lughat-i Sha'uri, Dasinah-i Kablr, and Lughat-i Shflh-
nameh of 'Abd al-Qadir Baghdadi, were edited in Turkey. But as against the
dictionaries produced in the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent in which the meanings
of words were also explained in Persian, in Turkey the meanings and explana-
tions were given in Turkish. The Iranians themselves, therefore, have not
been able to utilize these works.
To no other area of the world does the Persian language and literature
owe so profusely as to the Indo-Pakistan sub-continent. Not only have the
scholars there written hundreds of very useful books on subjects as varied
and diverse as history, lexicography, grammar, mysticism, biographies of
poets, and commentaries on certain Persian texts, and have preserved and
jealously guarded many books lost to posterity in other countries and even
in Iran, but they have also special interest in the publication of literary works
in the Persian language. There is hardly any big city in the Indo-Pakistan
sub-continent where a number of Persian books have not been published.
The number of such published works stands at two thousand.
INFLUENCE ON PERSIAN LITERATURE
The history of modern European powers in the East dates back to the
Renaissance period. Iran was one of the earliest countries to have come into
contact with the West. At first it was the Christian missionaries who set foot
on Muslim lands with a view to propagating their religion. They were, thus,
introduced to the rich treasure of advanced sciences that had accumulated
there through centuries but were unknown to the West. They learnt the
Arabic and the Persian languages ir order to acquaint themselves with the
rich philosophical thought and the subtle beauties and artistries of Persian
literature. At first works of Persian classics were rendered into Latin and soon
after these were published in some other prominent European languages such
as French, English, German, and Italian.
The earliest Persian work to have been translated into a European language
was Gulistan of Sa'di. Gradually, the works of Firdausi, Hafiz, 'Umar Khayyam,
Nizami, Jami, Jala.1 al-Din Rumi, Farid al-Din 'Attar, Nasir Khusrau,
and others were also translated. These eminent stars on the firmament of
Persian literature are now regarded in all Western countries as amongst the
great immortals of world literature. It was the dissemination of their thought
which provided stimulus to numerous European poets and writers of the
thirteenth/nineteenth century to take inspiration from Persian writers. This
influence was at times fully revealed in their works and at others was reflected
in their thought. One of the earliest amongst them was Dante, the Italian
poet, who was inspired to write his Divine. Comedy in which he describes
his spiritual flight into heavens and the next world under the influence of
Iranian literature. Next it was the great German poet Goethe who was thrilled
by the sheer beauty of Persian literature through German translations of
Persian poetry, and who had even pursued for some time the study of Persian
language in order to have a fuller appreciation of its literature. He even dedicat-
ed to it one of his famous works W est-ostlicher Divan, and gave to a section
of this book the title of "Kitab-i Hafiz." The well-known English poet Edward
Fitzgerald also published a small collection known as Rvba'iyat-i 'Umar
Khayyam which he claimed to have translated from the Persian collection
of Khayyam's quatrains. Actually, however, not all these quatrains are by
Khayyam himself; some of these are the work of other Persian poets. As
such, this collection reflects the thought of a number of Iranian philosophers.
Many of the European poets and writers who acquainted themselves with
the thought of Persian poets through translations in Western languages have
produced delightful works associated with Persian literature. Mainly, however,
they have come under the spell of Khayyam. Sa'di, and Hafiz.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Maneckji Nusservanji Dhalla, Ancient Iranian Literature, Karachi, 1949; AH
Asghar Hikmet, Glimpses of Persian Literature, Calcutta, 1956; S. M. Ishaque,
Modern Persian Poetry, Calcutta, 1943; Four Eminent Poetesses of Iran, Calcutta,
1950; R. P. Masani, Court Poets of Iran and India, Bombay, 1938; Muhammad
Abdul Ghani, A History of Persian Language and Literature at the Mughal Court,
Allahabad, Part I, Babar, 1929, Part II, Humayun, 1930, Part III, Akbar, 1930;
G. K. Nariman, Iranian Influence of Muslim Literature, Bombay, 1918; Choeth
Ram, A Short Survey of the History of Persian Literature, Lahore, 1927; Iqbal
Husain, The Early Persian Poets of India, Patna, 1937; "Persian Letters," Life
and Letters, London, Vol. LXIII, No. 148, December, 1949; A. J. Arberry, Persian
Poems, London, 1954; Reuben Levy, Persian Literature, An Introduction, London,
1923; A. V. Williams Taekson, Early Persian Poetry, New York, 1920; H. I.
Sadanangani, Persian Poets of Sind, Karachi, 1956; E. G. Browne, A Literary
History of Persia, 4 Vols., London, 1906-1924; Umar Muhammad Dawudpota, The
Influence of Arabic Poetry in the Development of Persian Poetry, Bombay, 1934;
F. F. Arbuthnot, Persian Portraits, London, 1882; S. A. Storey, Persian Literature,
London, Section I, 1922, Section II, Fasciculus 3, 1939, Vol. I, Part 2, 1953;
Munibur Rahman, Post- Revolution Persian Verse, Aligarh, 1955; Ambikaprasad
Vajpeyi, Persian Influence on Hindi, Calcutta, 1936; Hadi Hasan, Studies in
Persian Literature, Aligarh, 1924.
1057
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Chapter LIV
TURKISH LITERATURE
DEVELOPMENT OF TURKISH PROSE AND POETRY
The earliest surviving written documents of Turkish literature date from
the first/seventh century. They consist of short inscriptions in the so-called
"Runic" letters in the Upper Yenisei Valley in Siberia. Lengthier documents
of the same linguistic type and in the same script survive in the valley of the
Orkhon in Outer "Mongolia and date from the second/eighth century. These
consist of inscriptions on two steles in honour of two princes of the Turkish
dynasty of the Eastern Kok Turk State, and a third erected in honour of
its old minister. The history of the Eastern Kok Turk State is here related
in a semi-legendary and artistic way. Other inscriptions in the same script,
large and small, are known in Mongolia, Siberia, and Western Turkestan.
Manuscripts too, belonging probably to the third/ninth century, have been
found. The language of the Turkish runes is characterized by a certain archaism
in its phonetics, morphology, and vocabulary.
From the second/eighth century onwards the Uygur Turks became acquaint-
ed with Manichaeism, Buddhism, and Syrian (especially Nestorian) Christianity
in Northern China and East Turkestan and developed a high culture within
the framework of Far Eastern civilization which lasted until the seventh/
thirteenth century. The surviving Uygur manuscript and xylographic literature
is very extensive and proves a high cultural activity in the fields of religion,
philosophy, and other sciences. The script used for these literary works was
mainly the Uygur alphabet, derived from the Soghdian script. In addition
to the Uygur alphabet, however, these Turks used, besides the ancient Turkish
runes, the Manichaen, Syriac, and Brahmi runes. The Uygur alphabet remained
in use until the twelfth/eighteenth century among the Turks of China who
did not adopt Islam. The conversion to Islam (from the fourth/tenth century
onwards) of the Turks of Central Asia was followed by the adoption of the
Arabic alphabet. However, the Uygur alphabet remained in use as the Court
script. It was given a new lease of life in the Muslim territories by the Mongol
conquest, and was used in the seventh/thirteenth to ninth/fifteenth centuries
among the Golden Horde and the Timurids for the Kipchak and Chaghata'i
languages. As late as the early tenth/sixteenth century there were still in the
Imperial Chancellery in Istanbul scribes skilled in writing the Uygur script.
The Uygur Turkish or, to use a more suitable term, the old Turkish literary
language (for the civilization that used it was wider than the geographical
or historical limits of the Uygur State) shows, broadly speaking, the same
dialectical peculiarities as the Kot Turkish monuments. The few dialectical
1058
Turkish Literature
divergencies are obviously in the main due to the passage of time and to
influences from the outside. 1
The conversion to Islam of the Turks of Central Asia began in the fourth/
tenth century. Throughout history the Turks proved to be devoted Muslims and
zealous defenders and promoters of Islam. Founded on the literary Uygur
of the pre-Islamic period, there developed in the fifth/eleventh century under
the Karakhanids. converts to Islam, the Muslim Turkish literary language
of East Turkestan written probably from the first in the Arabic alphabet.
The best known documents in this language are two didactic poems, the
Qutddhghn Bilig (The Science of Happiness), composed by Yusuf Khas Hajib,
and the 'Atabdt al-Haqd'iq (The Threshhold of Facts), composed by Adib
Ahmad. There is, further, a translation of the Qur'an. Besides these works
there is another dating from the same century, the Diwan-o Lughat al-Turk
of Mahmud al-Kashghari composed in Baghdad in Arabic in order to acquaint
the Arabs with the Turkish world. It is a very valuable source for the investi-
gation of the various Turkish tribes, dialects, folk literature, customs, culture,
etc., of this time. 2
1 General Works on the Development of the Turkish Language and Literature :
Krymski, Istoriya turciyi i yeya Uteratuy, 2 Vols., Moscow, 1916; M. Fuad
Kopruliizade, Turk edebiyati tarihi, Istanbul, 1926, 386 pp. + 7 maps (incomplete);
"Turk edebiyatma umumi bir baki§," Turk dUi ve edebiyati, hakktnda arasttrmalar,
Istanbul, 1934, pp. 1-25; "Un apercu general sur la Literature turque," Ankara,
February 26, March 5 and 19, 1942; A. Bombaci, Storia delta letteratura turca,
Milano, 1956, 526 pp.
The Pre-Islamic Language and Literature: M. Fuad Kopruliizade, "En eski
Turk siirleri," Ikdam, March 19, 1916; M. Rasanen, "Ein Uberbfick iiber die
altesten Denkmaler der turkisehen Sprachen," Studia OrientMia, XIII/1, 1946,
pp. 1-21; A. S. Levend, Turk dUi ve edebiyatimn ilk mahsvileri, Ankara, 1949,
31 pp.; A. v. Gabain, Altturkisches SchrifUum, Akademie-Verlag, Berlin, 1950,
24 pp.; M. N. Ozerdim, M.S. IV-V, "yiizyillarda Cin'in kuzeyinde hanedan kuran
Tiirklerin siirleri," Ankara Universitesi DU ve Tarih-Cotfrafya Fakultesi dergisi,
XIII/3, 1955, pp. 51-96.
2 V. V. Barthold, "The Turks and the Qara-Khanids," Four Studies on the
History of Central Asia, translated from the Russian by V. and T. Minorsky, I,
Leiden, 1956, pp. 17-24; O. Pritsak, "Die Karachaniden," Islam, XXXI/1, 1953,
pp. 17—68; A. A. Valitova, "Yusuf Balasagunskiy i ego 'Kutadgu bilig,'" Kratkie
Soobsceniya Inst. Vostokovedeniya, IV, 1952, pp. 56-63; A. Bombaci, "Kutadgu
Bilig hakkinda bazi miilahazalar," F. Kopriilu Arma(fani, Istanbul, 1953, pp.
65-75; M. Fuad Kopruliizade, "II. asir Turk sairi Edip Ahmet," Turk dili ve
edebiyati hakkinda ara§ttrmalar, Istanbul, 1934, pp. 68-73; "Divan-i Lugat al-
Turk," ibid., pp. 33-34; "Le 'Divaru Lugat al-Turk,'" Ankara, January 30,
February 6, 1936; "Hibet al-Hakayik tetkiklerinin bugiinku hali,"*Wd.,pp. 91-112;
"Le quatrain dans la poesie classique turque," Ankara, November 27, 1941;
C. Brockelmann, "Altturkestanische Volksweisheit," Ostasiatische Zeitschrift, VIII,
1920, pp. 49-73 ; "Mahmud ol-Kasghari iiber die Sprachen und Stamme der Tiirken
im 11. Jahrhundert," Korbsi Csoma-Archivum, 1/1, 1921, pp. 26—40; "Altturkes-
tanische Volkspoesie I," Asia Major, Probeband, 1923, pp. 3-24; "Altturkestanis-
che Volkspoesie II," Asia Major, I, 1925, pp. 22-44; "Volkskundliches aus Ost-
turkestan," Asia Major. II, 1925, pp. 110-24.
1059
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Islam was established during the fourth/tenth century in the Bulghar kingdom
of Kama also. But data are lacking to enable us to decide if there also
existed any literature. In any case Bulghar elements are found in the sepulchral
inscriptions of the eighth/fourteenth century in the Volga region. 3
The development of literary Turkish in Central Asia went on without inter-
ruption, but its centres changed from time to time.
The absence of early manuscripts prevents us from giving a definite name
to the language of the Hihmats (theological didactic poems) of Ahmad Yasavi,
the founder of Turkish mysticism, who lived in the sixth/twelfth century in
West Turkestan.
In the seventh/thirteenth century the various literary dialects of the Muslim
Turkish world were not yet clearly differentiated from one another. The
formation of the Mongol Empire, which embraced almost the whole Arabic
world of the period, created for a time an atmosphere favourable to the develop-
ment of a uniform language for a considerable section of the Muslim Turkish
peoples. At first Turkish literary activity under the Saljuqs in Asia Minor
was to some degree bound up with that of Central Asia and Eastern Europe.
The seventh/thirteenth century, however, is an epoch of political agitations
in Asia Minor and Eastern Europe. It is, therefore, only in the next century
that literary works are mainly to be found. 4
Literary activity on the northern shores of the Black Sea, in Khwarizm
which included the mouth of the Sir Darya, in the capital Saray, and in the
Crimea attained a considerable development by the beginning of the eighth/
fourteenth century but no uniform literary language developed. The
elements of the literary language of the Karakhanid period were combined
with those of the local spoken dialects. In Syria, Egypt, and Persia under
Turkish or Turkicized rulers there grew an interest in Turkish. Thus, we
find a series of grammar books and lexicons in Arabic from the sixth/thirteenth
century until the beginning of the tenth/sixteenth century. They all deal
with the Kipchak but contain elements from other Turkish dialects in varying
The prose work Qisas al-Anbiya' (Stories of the Prophets), with passages
in verse written by N. Rabghuzi, finished in 710/1310, although lacking
3 C. Gerard, Les Bulgares de la Volga et les Slaves du Danube, Paris, 1939;
J. Sensing, "Die angeblichen bolgarturkischen Lehnworter im Ungarischen," Zeit-
schrift der Deutschen Morgenlandischen Oesellschaft, CVIII, 1944, pp. 24-27; M.
Rasanen, "Der Wolga-bolgarische Einfluss im Westen imLichte derWortgeschichte,"
Finnisch-ugrische Forschungen, XXIX, 1946, pp. 190-201; O. Pritsak, Die bulga-
rische Furstenliste und die Sprache der Protobulgaren, Wiesbaden, 1955, 101 pp. +
3 plates.
4 V. Gordlevskiy, "Hodja Ahmed Yesewi," Festschrift Georg Jacob, Leipzig,
1932, pp. 56-67; A. K. Borovkov, "Ocerki po istorii uzbekskogo yazyka," Sovetskoe
Vostokovedenie, V, Moscow-Leningrad, 1948, pp. 229-50; M. Fuad Kopruluzade,
V Influence du Chamanisme tuco-mongol sur les ordres mystiques musulmans, Istan-
bul, 1929, 19 pp.
1060
Turkish Literature
aesthetic value, is of great literary importance. Another religious work in
verse is the Mu'in al-Murld of Shaikh Sharif Khwajah (713/1313). The very
attractive romance in verse, Khusraw wo Shlrin of the poet Qutb (742-743/
1341-1342), although based on the corresponding Persian work of Nizami, has
nevertheless many original passages. Khwarizmi's poem Mahabbatndmah
(The Book of Love), composed in 754/1353, is another work of high literary
merit. Seif-i Sarayi's translation of Qulistan (The Rose-Garden) that appeared
in 782/1380 is another prose and verse book of high literary value. The religious
work Nahj al-Faradis (Way to the Paradises) of Mahmud b. 'AH (716/1316)
is, properly speaking, a "Forty -Hadith" book in simple prose with no aesthetic
aims. Finally may be mentioned the religious prose work Mi'rajnamah (Book
of the Ascension) composed for didactic purposes.
Further, there are other works written in Egypt and Syria which are : a
Siyar book composed in 784/1382; Irshad cd-Muluk w-al-Salatin composed
by Barka Faqih in 789/1387; Kitab fi al-Fiqh bi al-Lisan al-Turhi, originating
probably from the ninth/fifteenth century; Kitab fi l Ilm al-Nashshab wa
Kitab fi Riyadat al-Khail, a book on the art of horsemanship translated from
Arabic for soldiers in about 808/1405; Kitab al-Da'ioa, another book on the
art of horsemanship also translated from Arabic in 844/1440. 5
We may date to the eighth/fourteenth and ninth/fifteenth centuries the
beginning of the development of the different literary languages in different
parts of the Muslim Turkish world.
The Chaghata'i language and literature which developed under the Timurids,
the descendants of the second son of Chingiz Khan, represent the most
brilliant phase of the development of Central Asiatic Turkish literature.
Names are known of a few Turkish poets who lived in the eighth/fourteenth
century. But the works which have survived belong to the first half of the
ninth/fifteenth century. Sakkaki was a panegyrist. Another famous poet was
5 M. Fuad Kopruluzade, "Gazneliler devrinde Turk siiri," Turk dili ve edebiyati
hakkmda ara§ttrmalar, Istanbul, 1934, pp. 26-32; "II. asirda bir Turk filologu.
Fahreddin Miibaraksah ve eseri," ibid., pp. 123-54; "Harezmsahlar devrinde bir
Turk filologu. Muhammed b. Kays ve eseri," ibid., pp. 155-61; "La poesie turque
sous les Gaznevides," Ankara, November 28, 1935; "Un philologue turc a la cour
de Harezmsah," ibid., January 13, 1938; "Altin Ordu'ya dair yeni vesikalar,"
BeUeten V, 1941, pp. 397-436; T. Halasi-Kun, "Philologica I," Ankara Vniversitesi
DU ve Tarih-Co$rafya Fakultesi Dergisi, V/l, 1947, pp. 1-37; "Philologica II,"
ibid., VII/2, 1949, pp. 415-65; A. Zajaczkowski, "Zabytek jezykowy z Zlotej
Ordy, 'gusrev z Sinn' Qutba," Rozcnik Orientalistyczny, 19, 1954, pp. 45-123;
"Kutb'un Huarev u Sirin adh eseri hakkmda," VIII, Turk Dil KuruHay%, Ankara,
1960, pp. 159-64; Manuel arabe de la langue des Turcs et des Kiptchaks (Spoque
de Vliitat mamelouk), Warshaw, 1938, xxl + 56 + 16; Glosy tureckie w zabytkach,
I, Katechizacja turecka Jana Herbininsa, Wroslow, 1948, 76 pp. ; M. Th. Houtsma,
Ein tiirkisch-arabisches Glossar, Leiden, 1894, 114 + 57 pp.; al-Qavxmin al-Kulliyah
fi Lughat al-Turkiyyah, Istanbul, 1928, 94 pp.; al-Tuhjat al-Dhakiyyah fi
al-Lughat al-Turkiyyah (tr. B. Atalay), Istanbul, 1945, 296 pp. + 91 pp. in
facsimile.
1061
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Lutfi. To the same period belong the panegyrist Mir Haidar Majdhub
(Turkish Tilbe), Amiri, Sayyid, Ahmad Mlrza, Gada'i, Yaqini, and 'Ata'i.
In the second half of the century Chaghata'i literature reached its zenith
in Mir *Ali Shir Nawa'i. In his Diwan {Book of Poems) as well as in his numerous
other verse and prose works he does not merely imitate the Persian poets,
as was the case with his predecessors, but knows how to suit the taste of
his contemporaries. He has, therefore, enjoyed great popularity right down
to the present day all over the Turkish world. Of importance is his MuTjakamat
al-Lnghatain (The Contest of Two Languages) in which he endeavours to
show that the Turkish language is no less suitable than the Persian for poetical
works and intellectual purposes. He is also the first composer of Turkish
collection of the biographies of poets. Nawa'i is considered to be one of the
greatest personalities and intellectuals in Turkish literature. The prince and
patron of Nawa'i, Sultan Husain Baiqara, was also a poet.
The founder of the Timurid Empire in India in the first half of the tenth/
sixteenth century, Babur Shah, was also the author of a number of poems,
but he is most celebrated for his KMiirat-i Baburi (Memoirs of Babur) or
Baburnamah (Babur Book) very vividly relating his life and expeditions as
well as describing the life and topography of India. He is considered the second
great personality of Chaghata'i literature.
Minor personalities of the classical period are Hamidi, Muhammad Salih,
Shabani, etc.
Under the Uzbeks, who drove the Timurids out of Central Asia and Eastern
Persia in the second half of the tenth/sixteenth century, Turkish poets and
writers stuck to old Chaghata'i models without producing anything new or
original. The historian abu al-Ghazi Bahadur Khan in the twelfth/eighteenth
century probably stands alone in endeavouring to avoid in his work Persian
and Arabic as well as Chaghata'i Turkish words.
Of importance is Mirza Mahdi Khan's Sangldkh (Stony Place), a Turkish-
Persian dictionary composed in 1174/1760 with its extensive preface on classical
Chaghata'i Turkish grammar containing comparisons with Anatolian Turkish.
The same Turkish literary language as was written in the land of the
Uzbeks is written to the present day in Chinese Turkestan. Here also Turkish
culture has been influenced by Persian.
In the fourteenth/twentieth century a new Turkish literature based on the
local dialects has been founded under Russian und Kazan Turkish influences.
It includes dramatic works among its productions. In accordance with the
State policy of the new regime, a special alphabet in Cyrillic letters has been
created for the Uzbek language. 6
6 A. Z. V. Togan, "AH Sir Nevai," Islam Ansiklopedisi, I, 1941; A. Caferoglu,
"Qagatay tiirkeesi ve Nevai," Istanbul Vniversitesi Turk Dili ve Edebiyati Dergisi,
II/3-4, 1948, pp. 141-54; "Modern Azerbaycan edebiyatina tophi bir baki?,"
Azerbaycan Yurt Bilgisi, IV, 1954, pp. 40-48; "Adhari (Azen)," Encyclopaedia of
Islam, new edition; "Buyiik Azeri alimi Mirza Kazim Bey," Azerbaycan Yurt
Turkish Literature
From the fifth/eleventh century onwards Turkish tribal and military units
began to make raids into Asia Minor, so that Anatolia lay totally open to the
Turks. Thus, the colonization of Asia Minor and Eastern Europe went on with
great success. Thanks to the ability of these Turks to adapt themselves in
course of time to the changing circumstances of life, they succeeded in founding
on very firm bases a strong and lasting State.
Bilgisi, I, 1932, pp. 62-68; "Ismail Bey Gaspirinski, 'Teroiman' in 50 yilkgi
munasebetiyle," ibid., pp. 165-69; "Die tiirkische Sprachforschung und Professor
Dr. Mehmet Fuad Kopriilu," Der Neue Orient, IX, 1929, pp. 40-45; W. Barthold,
"Baykara," Encyclopaedia of Islam, 1959; J.B.Harrison, P. Hardy, and F. Kopriilu,
"Babur," Encyclopaedia of Islam, new edition, I; L. Bouvat, "§haibanl," ibid., IV,
1926 ; B. Spuler, "Abu 'l-Qhazi Bahadur Khan," ibid., I ; J. Eckmann, "Mirza Mehdis
Darstellung der tsehagataischen Sprache," Analecta Orientalia Memoriae Alexandri
Gsoma de Koros Dicata, Budapest, 1942-47, pp. 156-220; K. H. Menges, "Das
Cajatajische," der DarsteUung von Mirza Mahdi Xan, Wiesbaden, 1956, No. 9, pp.
627-739; H. Eren, "£agatay lugatleri hakkinda notlar," Ankara Vniversitesi DU ve
Tarih-Goqrafya Fakultesi Dergisi, VIII, 1950, pp. 143-45; P. Horn, Geschithte der
turkischen Moderne, 2. Auflage, Leipzig, 1909; M. Hartmann, Dichter der neuen
Turkei, Berlin, 1919; "Aus der neueren osmanischen Dichtung," Mitteilungen des
Seminars fur Orientalische Sprachen, XIX-XXI; Th. Menzel, Die tiirkische Literatur
der Gegenwart, Neue Ausgabe, 283 pp.; "Tewfik Fikret," Encyclopaedia of Islam,
IV, 1929; A. Fischer and A. Muhieddin, Anthologie aus der neuzeitlichen tiir-
kischen Literatur, I, Leipzig-Berlin, 1919; E. Saussey, Prosateurs turcs contempo-
rains, Paris, 1935, xxiii, 385 pp.; K. Akyiiz, Bati tesirinde Turk siiri antolojisi,
2, basla, Ankara, 1958, XV, 857 + XLV pp.; O. Spies, "Der tiirkische Bauer
in der Erzahlungsliteratur," Die Welt des Islams, Neue Serie IV/1, 1955, pp.
40-46; Tiirkische Ghrestomatie aus modemer Literatur, 1957; J. Deny, "Shinasi,"
Encyclopaedia of Islam, IV, 1927; "Ahmad Wafik Pasha," ibid., new edition;
M. Kaplan, Namik Kemal. Hayati ve eserleri, Istanbul, 1948, VI + 240 pp. ; A. H.
Tanpinar, '"Abd al-Hakk Hamid (Abdulhak Hamit}," Encyclopaedia of Islam,
new edition; S. E. Siyavusgil, "Ahmed Midhat Efendi," Islam Ansiklopedisi, I;
J. H. Kramers, "Sami, Shams al-Din, SamI Bey Frashen," Encyclopaedia of Islam,
IV, 1925; K. Akyiiz, Tevfik Fikret, Ankara, 1947, x + 354 pp.; P. N. Boratav,
"Hiiseym Rahmi'nin romanciligi," Ankara Vniversitesi Dil ve Tarih-CoQrafya
Fakultesi Dergisi, III/2, 1944-45, pp. 205-12; W. Bjdrkman, "Ahmad Rasim"
and "Mehmed Emin Bey," Encyclopaedia of Islam, new edition; N. S. Banarh,
Yahya Kemal yasarken, Istanbul, 1959, VII + 209 pp.; H. Yiicebas, Butun
cepheleriyle Mehmet Akif, Istanbul, 1958; Z. F. Findikoglu, Ziya Gokalp, Sa
vie et sa sociohgie, Paris, 1936; U. Heyd, Foudations of Turkish Nationalism
(The Life and Teachings of Ziya Gokalp), London, 1950, 174 pp.; Gokalp,
Turkish Nationalism and Western Civilization, Selected Essays of Ziya Gokalp,
tr. and ed. with an introduction, by N. Berkes, 1959, 336 pp.; Y. Bey Vezirof,
Azerbaycan edebiyatina bir nazar, Istanbul, 1337 A.H., 103 pp.; B. Cobanzade,
Azeri edebiyatmm yeni devri, Baku, 1930; M. A. Nazim, "Azerbaydjanskaya
khudojestvennaya literatura," Trudi aterbaydjanskogo filiala, XXX, Baku, 1936;
M. E. Resulzade, CaQdas Azerbaycan edebiyati, Ankara, 1950; Antologiya azerbay-
djankoy poesii, Moscow, 1939; V. Minorsky, "The Poetry of Shah Isma'il I,"
Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, X/4, 1942; A. Genceli,
"Tebrizli Saib," Turk Amaei, I, 1942-43, pp. 33-37, and II, 1942-43, pp. 52-60;
A. V. Yurtsever, Sabir'in Azerbaycan edebiyatmda yeri, Ankara, 1951; H. W.
Brands, "Akhund-zada," Encyclopaedia of Islam, new edition; Battal-Taymas,
"Kirimh filolog-sair Bekir Cobanzade'yi tanitma tecriibesi," Turk Dili Arastirmcdan
1063
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Parallel to the political and social development, Anatolian Turkish literature
has had an uninterrupted development from the time of the Saljuqs down
to the present day. It has, therefore, become the most important and richest
branch of all the Turkish literatures and has exercised an influence on the
literature of other dialects.
Seventh j Thirteenth Century. — Already in the seventh/thirteenth century there
developed in Anatolia a Turkish literature based mainly on the Oghuz dialect.
The well-known Persian mystic. Jalal al-Din Rumi and his son Sultan Walad
produced some Turkish verses ; Ahmad Faqih wrote a fairly long mystic poem ;
and Shayyad Hamzah left poems of different genres.
Yunus Emre was the greatest figure in this century. He is regarded
as the best Turkish popular mystic poet. His art is essentially one of the
people, i.e., it is Turkish. It was through his mystical verses that there develop-
ed a tradition of writing poems in the language of the people and in the popular
syllabic metre, which did not loose its power even in the period when Persian
influence was at its highest.
Classical profane literature had its first representative in Dahhani.
His poems were in an elaborate style and attained a high degree of perfection
from the technical point of view.
Another poem of this eentury was 'All's Qissah-i Yusuf (Story of Joseph),
representing linguistically a mixture of Central Asian literary Turkish and
the vernacular Oghuz dialect. Moreoever, other works of this and even next
century had more or less the same peculiar features, and the rather pure
Oghuz dialectical features in the manuscripts of works of these centuries are
probably to be ascribed to the later copyists. 7
Ytllifii — BeUeten, 1954, pp. 233-73; "Kirimli Bekir Cobanzade'nin siirleri,"
Turkiyat Mecmuasi, XII, 1955, pp. 23-44; A. Samoilovitch, "Acerki po istorii
turkmenskoy literatury," Turkmeniya, I, 1929; Wl. Zajaczkowski, "Skie literatury
turkmensiej," Preglad Orientalictyczny, 1/4, 1952, pp. 106-11; E. Bertels, "The
Study of the History of Turcoman Classical Literature in the Soviet Union,"
Papers Presented by the Soviet Delegation at the XXIIIrd International Congress
of Orientalists, Iranian, Armenian, and Central Asian Studies, Moscow, 1954, pp.
65-78; "Makhtumkuli o khudoshestvennom tvorchestve," Sov'et Edebiyati, 1944,
No. 7, pp. 128-31; M. F. Koprulii, "Cagatay edebiyati," Islam Ansiklopedisi, III,
1945, pp. 270-323; "Ali Sir Nevai ve tesirleri," Turk dili ve edebiyatt hakkinda
araqtirmalar, Istanbul, 1934, pp. 257-72; "Un grand poete turc, Ali Sir Nevai,"
Ankara, October 15, 1936; "Ziya Pasa," Cumhuriyet, March 16, 1928; "Azeri,"
Islam Ansiklopedisi, II, 1942, pp. 118-51; "Hasan oglu," Darulfunun Edebiyat
Fakultesi Mecmuasi, IV/1, 1925, pp. 77-98; '"Habibi," ibid., VIII/5, 1932, pp.
86-133; "Ismail Bey Gaspirinski," Azerbaycan Yurt Bilgisi, II, 1933, pp. 154-55;
"Turkoman Literature," Encyclopaedia of Islam, IV, 1931.
7 Fr. Taeschner, "Zwei Gazels von Giilsehri," Aramagam, Istanbul, 1953, pp.
479-85; Gulschehris Mesnewi auf Achi Evran, den Heiligen von Kirschehir und
Patron der tiirkischen Zunjte, Wiesbaden, 1955, VIII + 81 + 13 pp.; Gulsehri,
Manhku 't-tayr (in facsimile), preface by A. S. Levend, Ankara, 1957, 32 +
298 pp.; F. Iz, "Ashik Pasha," Encyclopaedia of Islam, I, new edition; A. S. Levend,
"Asik Pasa'mn bilinmeyen iki mesnevisi," Turk Dili Arastirmalart Ydlitji —
1064
Turkish Literature
Eighth) Fourteenth Ce?iiury. — The literary development followed the same
line in the eighth/fourteenth century. A certain number of feudal princes in
Asia Minor lacked Persian or Arabic culture, and this was the reason why
the language of the people became important, why books were written in
Turkish, and also why a number of Muslim works were translated from
Arabic and Persian into Turkish. During this century there developed in
Anatolia several cultural centres, such as Quniyah, Nigde, Ladik, Kastamonu,
Sinop, Sivas, Kirsehir, Bursa, and Iznik.
Among the leading poets Ahmad Gulshahri should be mentioned for his
artistic merit. He put into Turkish the Mantiq al-Tair (Speech of Birds)
of the Persian poet 'Attar, expanding it with stories from various sources.
We also possess a number of isolated poems of his. Although a mystic, his
literary aims were purely artistic.
The great mystic of this century is, however, 'AsMq Pasha with his long
poem Gharibndmah (Book of the Stranger). He is a mere imitator of Jalal
al-Din Rumi and Sultan Walad. There also exists a number of detached
mystical poems from the pen of 'Ashiq Pasha, but all are far from showing
the lyrical merit of Yunus Emre.
In the second half of the century we find classical mystic poetry attaining
high perfection in Nasimi. He is a great poet whose mystic lyrics are most
expressive. His style is simple but full of power and harmony. In his Dlwan
we find tuyughs, a verse-form peculiar to Turkish classical poetry and foreign
to Persian literature.
Romantic tales and fables were also taken from Persian literature. Among
them is to be mentioned Mas'M's love story in verse, Suhail wa Naubahdr
(two proper names), a translation or rather an expanded adaptation from an
unknown Persian work. This story has considerable literary value.
But, with the exception of Nasimi, Ahmadi is the greatest poet of this
period. He is the author of the Iskandarndmah (Book of Alexander). The
subject is taken from Persian sources, but he adds a long section dealing with
world history including the Ottoman dynasty. His Dlwan is more interesting
from the artistic point of view. Among his poems there are some which are
of local interest.
Further, we must mention Qadi Burhan al-Din who has left a Dlwan also
containing tuyughs. His poems have a note of sincerity and passion of their
own. He is the first to have attained perfection by the standards of classical
rhetoric.
Of prose works are to be mentioned an anonymous translation of Kalllah
BeUeten, 1953, pp. 205-55 +13+15 in facsimile; "Asik Pasa'mn bilinmeyen
iki mesnevisi daha," ibid., 1954, pp. 265-76 + 3 + 4 in facsimile; M. Fuad
Kopruliizade, "Nesimi'ye dair," Hayat, I, 1927, p. 382; "Kadi Burhaneddin,"
Dergdh, II, 1922, pp. 180-81; Hoca Mes'ud, Suheyl u Nevbahdr, ed. J. H.
Mordtmann, Hannover, 1924, 378 pp. in facsimile; G. L. Lewis, "Ahmadi,"
Encyclopaedia of Islam, I, new edition.
1065
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
tea Dimnah and the legendary tales of Dede Qorqut mainly about the Muslim-
Christian struggle during the Turkish invasion of Anatolia and its vicinity,
reflecting vividly the life, customs, and ideals of the Turks of the fifth/eleventh
and sixth/twelfth centuries. 8
Ninth/Fifteenth Century.— In the ninth/fifteenth century Turkish increased
in importance as a literary and official language. In the first half of the century
there were three great princely families who were patrons of scholars and
poets: Karamanoghli at Quniyah, the Jandaroghli at Kastamonu, and the
Ottoman Princes in Edirne and Bursa. As in the preceding centuries, the
literary activity under them was not confined merely to the translation of
Muslim works of a classical character.
In popular religious literature we may mention the Maulld (Birth of the
Prophet) poem of Sulaiman Chalabi and Ahmad. This fine work has all the
qualities of a masterpiece. It has been read by the people, for centuries par-
ticularly on the occasion of the religious commemoration of a dead person.
In every century many similar poems have been written in imitation of it.
The most important classical poet of this period is Shaikhi. His version of
Khusrau vsa Shlrln of the Persian poet Nizami is more than a mere translation.
The Kharnamah (Story of the Donkey) is a masterpiece of satire. He is also
the author of a Dvwan which contains a considerable amount of panegyrics
and love poems. His part in the establishment of classical poetry is great. His
influence continued down to the tenth/sixteenth century.
Another great classical poet of the period is Ahmad Pasha. He surpassed
his contemporaries in panegyrics and love poems exercising, thus, a great
influence on the poets of his time. Next to him in this field is Najati.
A certain number of chronicles in verse belong to this period.
Prose also developed considerably. In this connection we may mention the
anonymous commentary on the Qur'an, Jawahir al-Asddf (Gems of Mothers-
of-Pearl), and the more popular book Qirq Vezir Hikayalari (The Tales of
the Forty Viziers).
But it was mainly artistic prose that was cultivated, its most brilliant
representative being Sinan Pasha with his Tadarru' Ndmah (Book of Supplica-
8 M. Fuad Kopruliizade, "Anadolu'da Turk dil ve edebiyatmin tekamiilune
umumi bir baksi," II. XV. asir, Yeni Turk Mecmuasi, 5, 1933, pp. 375-94;
M. Fuad Koprulu, "Les poetes turcs d'Anatolie au Verne siecle," Ankara, February
3 10 1938; N. Pekolcay, "Suleyman Qelebi mevlidi, metni ve mensei meselesi,"
Turk Dili ve Edebiyati Dergisi, VI, 1954-55, pp. 39-64; "Ahmed'in Mevlid
isimli eseri," ibid., pp. 65-70; F. K. Timurtas, "Harname," ibid., III/3-4, 1949,
pp. 369-87; "Seyhi'nin tip konusunda eseri," ibid., IV/42, 1955, pp. 340-43;
"Seyhi'nin hayati ve sahsiyeti," ibid., V, 1953-54, pp. 91-120; "§eyhi'nin
sohreti ve tesiri," ibid., VIII, 1958, pp. 84-89; "§eyhi'nin Husrev u §irin konusu,"
ibid., IX, 1959, pp. 89-110; H. Inalcik, "Ahmad Pasha, called Bursali," Encyclo-
paedia of Islam, new edition; Fr. Taeschner, " ' Ashik-Pasha-zade," Encyclopaedia
of Islam, new edition; "Deli Lutfis Mizah," published by O. Reseher, Onentalische
Miszellen, II, 1926, pp. 40-43.
Turkish Literature
tion). His style is artistically elaborated, yet natural and sincere. Other
representatives of artistic prose are Sari Kamal, Ahi, Masihi, and Ja'far
Chalabi.
As a reaction to this ornate language the first representative of the turki-i
haslt (simple Turkish), Wisali who wrote in 'ariid metres but used exclusively
Turkish words deserves to be noted. However, only one couplet of his has
come to us.
The writing of history in prose also began to develop. We have many anony-
mous specimens of Ottoman history. They show us that there existed in the
ninth/fifteenth century among the people and especially among the soldiers
chronicles which were almost of the nature of epics. The historical works of
'Ashiq Pashazadah, Oruch Beg, and others do not differ much in point of
style from these anonymous chronicles. The works of Tursun Beg, Bayati, and
some others, on the other hand, were written rather with the object of dis-
playing a particular style and an extensive literary ability.
A fine specimen of unaffected prose of this period is the treatise by Deli
Lutfi, which is one of the oldest works of humour in Turkish literature. 9
• M Fuad Kopriiluzade, "Anadolu'da Turk dil ve edebiyatmin tekamiilune
umumi bir bakis," III, XVI, asir, Yeni Turk Mecmumi, 7, 1933, pp. 5 35-53;
"Fuzuli'nin yeni eserle'ri," Azerbaycan Yurt Bitgisi, I, 1932, pp. 447-48; Milh
edebiyat cereyamnin ilk miibessirleri ve Divan- itiirki-ibasit, XVI, asir sairUnnden
Edirneli NazmVnin eseri, Istanbul, 1928; "Miiverrih Ali," Cumhunyet, March 15,
1928 • M Fuad Koprulu, "Les poetes turcs d'Anatolie au XVIeme siecle," Ankara,
February 24, March 4, 1938; "Fuzuli," Ankara, March 10, 1938; "Baki," Ankara,
March 24 31, 1938; Th. Menzel, "Zatl," Encyclopaedia of Islam, IV, 1934, pp.
1218-19- A. N. Tarlan, Hayali Bey Divam, Istanbul, 1945, xxiv + 450 pp. +
16 plates; "Fuzuli'nin bilinmeyen kasideleri," Turk Dili ve Edebiyati Dergisi,
III/1-2, 1948, pp. 193-209; "Fuzuli'nin bilinmoyen kasideleri, II," ibid., III/3-4,
1949 pp. 411-27; Fuzuli Divani I. Gazel, musammat, mukatta ve rubai kmni,
' -' ; + 247 pp.; "Fuzuli'nin bilinmeyen kasideleri, III," Turk Dili
TV j3, 1951, pp. 257-64; Fevziye Aptullah, "Fuzuli'nin
_ . „ „ „ .. "Fuzuli'nin bir mek-
Istanbul, 1950, 3
ve Edebiyati Dergisi,
eazeUerine dair," Edebiyat, 1, 1934, pp. 16-23; H. l_
tubu," Ankara Universitesi Dil ve Tarih-Co$rafya Fakultesi Dergisi,Vl/3, 1948-49.
pp 139-46; Kemal Edib, "Fuzuli'nin bilinmeyen siirlerinden bir kaci," ibid.,
VT/6 1948-49, pp. 319-28; A. Karahan, Fuzuli, Muhiti, hayati ve satisiyeti,
Istanbul, 1949, xxiii + 309 + 10 pp. + 10 pp. in facsimile + 1 map; A. S. Levend,
"Fuzuli'nin §ah u Geda'si," Turk Dili, 111/35, 1954, pp. 655-56; H. Mazioghi,
Fuzuli - Hafiz. lki sair arasmda bir karsilastirma, Ankara, 1956, 375 pp. ; Fuzuli,
Turkce Divan, Ankara, 1958, 537 pp.; F. Iz, "Baki," Encyclopaedia of Islam, new
edition- F. N. Uzluk, "Lamii'nin latifelerinden," Turk Dili, IV/46, 1955, pp.
609-11- Mehmed Ali Ayni, "Kinahzade Ali Qelebi," Mehmed Ah Aym, Turk
ahldkcilari, I, Istanbul, 1937, pp. 77-104; "Khwadja Sa'daddln," Encyclopaedia
of Islam; Fr. Babinger, "Sehi Celebi," Encyclopaedia of Islam, IV, 1926; Tezkere-i
Ldtifi, edition by Ahmed Cevdet, Istanbul, 1314 A.H., 381 pp.; V. L. Menage,
"Ashik Celebi," Encyclopaedia of Islam, new edition; Bahriye Pin Reis, Das
turkische Segelhandbuch fur das Mittellandische Meer vom Jahre 1521, P. Kahle,
I, Text, 1. Lieferung; II. Ubersetzung, 1. Lieferung, Berlin-Leipzig, 1926; Berga-
mah Kadri, Muyessiret-ul-ulum (facsimile, transcription, text, index), edition by
B. Atalay, Istanbul, xx + 247 + 182 pp.
1067
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Tenth J Sixteenth Century. — In the tenth/sixteenth century the apogee of
Ottoman political power is also reflected in the sphere of literature. Literary
activity flourished not only in Istanbul, but also in Baghdad, Diyar-i Bakr,
Quniyah, Kastamonu, Bursa, Edirne, Yenije-u Vardar, and Tlskiip. Philo-
logical commentaries and lexicographical and grammatical works were pro-
duced. Books without number were translated from Arabic and Persian.
The greatest figures in poetry in chronological order are: Dhati. Khayali.
Fuduli, and Baqi. Dhati wrote a large number of works in poetry and prose
which are unequal in merit. His imagination and new ideas made h i m
very popular. Khayali surpasses Dhati as a poet. His Diman contains all his
works. His most original poems are his love poems. Fuduli must be regarded
as the greatest lyrical poet of Turkish literature. Although he used the dialect
of Adharbaijan, he exercised such an influence in Anatolia that literary his-
torians regard him belonging to the realm of Anatolian literature. His love
poems and love romance Laila wa Majnun have secured him a special place
in literary history. Love in his works is never entirely profane in character,
thanks to mystic inspiration. No other poet except Nawa'i has acquired
a like reputation throughout the whole Turkish world. He exercised an
influence even on the musician poets of the lover classes. Baqi was undoubtedly
the most reputed poet of his time, his fame stretching as far as India. In the
expression of sentiment he is below Fuduli, but the musical charm and faultless
ease of his poems have given him the reputation of an inimitable master of
classicism. His elegy on the death of Sulaiman the Magnificent is a master-
piece of deep sentiment and grief.
At this period Anatolian Turkish poetry attained the highest point in
artistic elaboration and rhetoric. It is true that this was in the main an
imitation of Persian poetry. But the Anatolian Turkish poets imitated
rather the Indo-Persian poetry and went even further in fineness and
abstraction. In the next centuries we see this refinement perfected on its
own lines.
Poets belonging to different dervish-orders composed didactic works, mystic
poems, and collections of legends of saints, along with translations of Arabic
and Persian mystical works.
Prose in this century assumed a heavier and more artificial form. Out-
doing the Persian models, the simplest ideas were expressed by the most
complicated images to the detriment of the subject. This lack of taste is
found in the greatest stylists of the period: Lami'i, Kamal Pashazadah,
Jalalzadah, Faridun Beg, 'Azmi, Qinalizadah, Khwajah Sa'd al-Din, and
others. This tendency to artificiality had a much more disastrous effect on
prose than on poetry. In very long works, however, it was only the preface
that was written in this turgid and clumsy style. Many literary, historical,
religious, or moralizing works of the period were in fact written in a simpler
language. The same applies to official correspondence and other State docu-
ments. In religious works intended for the people every endeavour was made
Turkish Literature
to write as simply as possible. The examples which we possess of the prose of
Fuduli and Baqi show an elegant and relatively simple language.
As a reaction to the ornate language, the movement called turki-i bastt
(simple Turkish) has its second well-known exponent in Nazmi of Edirne
whose Diwan, though, again, in 'arud verse, contains only Turkish words. But
he has no artistic abilities.
In the field of historical works great progress was made. Besides rhymed
chronicles, we find historical works in prose in continuation of the Saljuq
tradition. A number of historical works were written in verse. With the excep-
tion of the Ottoman history by Hadidi they always deal with a single event
or the victories of a single emperor or commander. General histories were
composed by ibn Kamal, Jalalzadah, Mustafa Chalabi, Muhi al-Dln Jamali,
Lutfi Paslja, Khwajah Sa'd al-Din, and 'AIL Some of these works are the
sources for our knowledge of the social history of this period.
Among historical works those which deal with literary history occupy an
important place. The first Ottoman collection of biographies of poets was
produced by Shahi Beg on the model of Nawa'i's work. Tins was followed
by the works of Latin, 'Ashiq Chalabi, 'Ahdi, and Hasan Chalabi. *Ali also
gives important notices of poets in his historical work.
It is in this century that there appeared geographical works and accounts
of travels. Some are mere translations. The celebrated Bahriyyah (Maritime
Work) of Phi Ra'is, and Muhtt (Ocean) and Mir'at ai-Mamalik (Mirror of
Lands) of Saidi 'AM Ra'is are the best works of this type. We have further
records of voyages both in verse and in prose.
The first grammar of Anatolian Turkish, planned on the model of Arabic
grammars, by Qadri of Pergamon, was also written in this century.
Alongside classical literature we find popular literature increasing in every
form. Wandering musician-poets were to be found wherever people congre-
gated, and love songs, heroic tales, elegies, and folk-songs were recited. 10
Eleventh} Seventeenth Century. — In the eleventh/seventeenth century know-
ledge of the Ottoman literary language spread among the Muslim lower
classes generally and also through districts to the non-Turkish population
or Turks speaking a non-Ottoman Turkish dialect. The influence of Turkish
literature and culture is found as early as the tenth/sixteenth century
in the use of Arabic script by the Muslim Hungarians and Croats. There are
10 M. Fuad Koprulii, "Les poetes turcs d'Anatolie au XVIIeme siecle," Ankara,
April, 7, 14, 1938; "Nef'i," Ankara, May 12, 19, 1938; "Asik Omer (xvii. asir saz
sairi)," M. F. Koprvlu, Turk saz sairleri, II, xvi-xviii, aair, Istanbul, 1940, pp.
193-256; A. Karahan, Nobi, Istanbul, 1953; J. Walsch, '"At&'I," Encyclopaedia
of Islam, new edition; Th. Menzel, "Waisi," Encyclopaedia of Islam, IV, 1933;
M. Fuad Kopriiliizade, "Katip gelebi," Gumhuriyet, February 25, 1928; "Pecewi,"
Encyclopaedia of Islam; "Naima," Cumhuriyet, February 27, 1928; "Qochi Beg,"
Encyclopaedia of Islam; M. C. Baysun, "Evliya Qelebi," Islam Ansiklopedisi;
S.- N. Ergun, Karaca Ojflan, Istanbul, 1950; M. H. Bayri, "§iirlerine nazaran
Gevheri," Yeni Turk Mecmuasi, 75-76, 1939, pp. 103-06.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
also found dictionaries of Turkish-Serbian, Turkish-Bosaniak, and Turco-Greek
in verse. Istanbul was always the centre to which men of letters and learning
flocked from all parts of the Ottoman Empire and from beyond its frontiers.
The classical Turkish poetry of the eleventh/seventeenth century was in
no respect below the level of the Persian models. The Turkish poets by this
time were working on original themes, though the influence of the Persian
and Indo-Persian poets was still felt.
Naf'i may be regarded as the greatest master of eulogies (qasidahs), on
account of the power of his imagination, the richness of his language, and
the elevation and harmony of his style. His love poems and bis satires (hajiviy-
yat), on the other hand, are less successful.
Another very important classical poet was Nabi who is renowned for his
refined didactical poems and descriptions. His verses are still quoted as pro-
verbs. He was also the one who protested against artificial language,
saying: "The ghazal book is not a dictionary."
The greatest figure in romance poems (mathnawi) is Nav'izada 'Ata'i who
takes his subjects from the life of his time.
The number of religious and mystical works, lives of saints, and didactic
works connected with different orders is very great in this century. Poetical
forms were often used for them.
Literary prose follows the same lines as in the preceding century. The
great stylists like Vaisi, Narkisi Oqchizadah, and others carried affectation
of language to still greater lengths. Yet works which were in their days con-
sidered to have no literary value are now being greatly appreciated.
As an encyclopedist, Katib Chalabi's name must be mentioned.
Histories in this century also took the first place among prose-works. There
are several which have the character of semi-official chronicles. Mainly, though
they are translations of general histories of Islam, there are also original works
on the same subject, and general and special works and monographs on Ottoman
history. The best historians are Katib Chalabi, Pachavi, Na'ima, and Qochi
Beg. The verse chronicles are much below the level of those of the tenth/six-
teenth century. The most notable are those of Riyadi and Qafzadah Fa'idi.
In the field of geography the most important works are those of Katib
Chalabi and abu Bakr Dimashqi. They use European as well as Muslim sources.
The Sayahatnamah (Voyage Book) of Avliya Chalabi is important as history
of all aspects of social life.
The great popularity of the literature of the people continued in this cen-
tury in all classes of society. The musician-poets became very numerous. We
find them in the military classes and in the religious orders. The most important
of them are Karaja Oghlan Gavhari and 'Ashiq 'Umar. The influence of this
popular literature is felt even among the upper classes. 11
11 M. F. Koprulii, "Les poetes turcs d'Anatolie au XVIIIeme sieele," Ankara,
June 9, 1938; "Kodja Raghib Pasha," Encyclopaedia of Islam; "Ahmed Nedim,"
Turkish Literature
Twelfth] Eighteenth Century. — Literature and culture continued in the twelfth/
eighteenth century to follow the same lines as in the preceding centuries. There
was a vast output in prose and poetry, while the cultural links with Persia
and Transoxiana continued. But the tendency to a more individual develop-
ment gained in strength. Endeavour was made to simplify the language.
Among the poets Nadim in particular acquired a great reputation. By his
original themes, rich imagination, sparkling wit, and harmonious language
he surpassed his predecessors and contemporaries. He was the poet who
brought much local colour to Turkish literature. He was famous with his
sharqis, another verse-form peculiar ta Turkish classical poetry and foreign
to Persian literature. One of his poems he composed in the Turkish syllabic
metre and the national form ttirkii.
Among the great poets of this century special mention must be made of
Raghib Pasha, the last great poet of the classical period.
The poets of this century practised all forms of poetry, but special attention
was devoted to genres characteristic of an epoch of decadence. On the other
hand, true religious inspiration still continued. The last masterpiece of romantic
poetry was Shaikh Ghalib's Husn-o l Ishq (Beauty and Love) with its mystical
inspiration and very fine style.
Literary prose tended to become gradually simpler, although imitations of
the old artificial style were still found. A well-known stylist, 'Uthmanzadah
Ta'ib openly denounced exaggerated artificiality in prose. Historical works
occupied the first place, but they could not be compared to those of the
preceding century.
The political and military decline of the Ottoman Empire stimulated the
writing of a large number of memoirs investigating its causes. The most
remarkable of these is that of Qoja Segban Bashi.
From the point of view of geography we may note a number of important
descriptions by ambassadors of which that of France by Yirmi Sekiz Muham-
mad Chalabi is a typical and very interesting example. We may also notice
a number of translations of European works on geography.
The writings celebrating the splendid festivals held by the Sultans are
important sources for sociological research.
The collections of biographies of poets are even more numerous than in the
preceding century.
Popular literature continued to enjoy the same popularity among all classes
of society. The works of the musician-poets were also well known. Taste for
such literature penetrated more into the upper classes.
In this century Ibrahim Mutafarriqah inaugurated printing in Turkish
script, but for several reasons printing remained confined to a very restricted
Ankara, June 29, 1937; Sadettin Niizhet, §eyh Galib. Hayat ve eaerleri, Istanbul,
1936; M. Fuad Kopriiluzade, "Osmanzade Taib'e dair," Turkiyat Mecmuast, II,
1928, pp. 427-30.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
sphere throughout the century and did not exercise any particular influence
on intellectual and artistic life. 12
Thirteenth! Nineteenth Century.— At the beginning of the thirteenth/nine-
teenth century Ottoman literature sank to a very low level which continued
till the period of political reform. It was only natural that the old literary
tradition could not disappear at one stroke.
The prose of the period before the political reforms was not of much value,
although its production was not less in quantity than that of the preceding
centuries. The historical work by Mutarcim 'Asim was remarkable for its
style and critical analysis. He used even simpler language in his translation
of Burhan-i QdtV (The Definite Proof) and the Qamus (Lexicon). Lastly, men-
tion must be made of the celebrated poet and stylist 'Akif Pasha who, on
account of several poems written in the popular metre and some works in
simple prose, could be regarded as the first to have spread literary innovations.
We also had representatives of popular literature. The best known musician-
poets were Dertli, Dhihni. and Amrah.
DEVELOPMENT OF TURKISH GRAMMAR
AND LEXICOGRAPHY
1. Turkish is an agglutinative language. The root which is either verbal
or nominal and which (except in the case of certain pronouns) is never in-
flected, always appears at the beginning of the word. Verbal forms are built
from the verb-stem, which may be a simple root or a root modified by for-
mative suffixes. The verb-stem is followed by suffixes indicating aspect and
tense ("voice" and "negation" being shown by aspect suffixes), to produce
the tense-stem which, without further suf fixation, expresses the third person
singular; other persons are indicated by the addition of a personal suffix.
The resultant word is a unit as regards stress, intonation, and sound harmony,
i.e., assimilation of sounds tending to conform the sounds of the suffixes to
the root in general. Phonetic changes in the root or suffixes do not imply
semantic modifications.
Nominal forms again are built out of the noun-stem, which may be a
simple root or a root modified by formative suffixes.
Prefixes and infixes do not exist in Turkish.
The syntax of the language is based essentially on the following principle.
The governing parts of a grammatical statement or of a group of statements
12 M. F. Kopriilii, "Les poetes turcs d'Anatolie au XlXeme siecle," Ankara,
June 16, 1938; "Erzummlu Emrah {xix. asir saz §airi)," M. F. Kopriilii, Turk
saz §airleri, Antoloji, III, xix-xx, asirlar, Istanbul, 1940, pp. 577-640; "Asik
Dertli (xix. asir saz sairi)," ibid., pp. 641-704; M. §. Olkiitasir, "Miitercim Asim
(1755-1819)," Turk Dili, 1/1, 1951, p. 34; A. H. Tanpinar, "Akif Pasa," Islam
Ansiklopedisi, I; Z. F. Findikoglu, Bayburtlu Zihni, Istanbul, 1950, 125 pp.
1072
Turkish Literature
follow the parts governed. Hence the principal part of the statement or of
a group of statements, i.e., the finite verb or predicate, is usually placed at
the end, the completed parts follow the complement, the qualified elements
(nominal or verbal) are put after their qualifiers (adjectival or adverbial),
and the principal statement follows the subordinate ones.
Turkish in its original form did not include conjunctions. The only sub-
ordinate clause which is attested from the earliest documents onwards is
the conditional.
The characteristics of the Turkish language outlined above are to be
found in the earliest surviving Turkish documents, which date from the
first/seventh century.
2. This "pure" language, however, underwent a considerable change when
pagan Turks came into contact with the Far Eastern civilizations and reli-
gions. The Turkish literary output of the period before the adoption of
Islam was mainly translations of the scriptures of various religions. Such
translations of sacred texts had to be as literal as possible. Of course, it
is no wonder that under the influence of the non-Turkish structures of the
languages so translated, this literary dialect, while preserving its native
participial and gerundial constructions, acquired new types of subordinate
clauses, partly with defective constructions and developed conjunctions formed
from Turkish roots. In the field of vocabulary also we find technical expressions,
borrowed from the more developed languages of the Far East. This does not,
however, mean that such borrowings were numerous. On the contrary, a great
number of expressions were mere Turkish translations from these languages.
3. As to linguistic peculiarities of the first Islamic literary dialect in Central
Asia, it differed but slightly from Old Turkish. Religious terms markedly
connected with the Far Eastern religions were no more to be found. In their
place, we find Islamic terminology. But this latter was not so widespread as
one would expect or find in later literary works. Instead Far Eastern terms
or Turkish caiques from them were still common. The development in the
direction of an analytical sentence structure was less pronounced. Though
subordinate clauses of the Indo-European and Semitic types began to develop
in general, the Turkish sentence with its participial and gerundial forms still
prevailed. Nevertheless, new conjunctions were created out of Turkish words
or borrowed from Arabic and Persian, and these to a great extent encouraged
the development of new Turkish subordinate clauses.
On the other hand, popular words of the Karakhanidian period show very
little foreign influence. Both in syntax and lexicography, this influence was
restricted to the minimum. In this respect the popular literary products of
the earliest Turkish Islamic literature resembled the runic inscriptions.
4. In the Khwarizmian period, Arabic and Persian exercised an increasing
influence on Turkish syntax. Both in verse and in prose, the basically fixed
Turkish word-order became more flexible and the rich stock of terminations
that henceforth developed in the language prevented ambiguity and gave it
1073
A History of Muslim Philosophy
greater clarity. The borrowings from the two main Islamic culture languages,
Arabic and Persian, increased. Vocabulary was further enriched by the use
of Arabic and Persian loan-words, though the Far Eastern loan-words were
still common, and inversion, particularly in verse, was now used to a greater
extent. Until the ninth/fifteenth century, Anatolian Turkish also reveals the
same characteristics.
5. During the classical period of Ottoman literature, the syntactical influence
of Persian in the construction of sentences did not increase. Rather it diminished
in the course of time.
The old Turkish type of sentence with only a single finite verb, but using
many participial and gerundial forms was particularly in use in Ottoman
prose. This made the formation of very long sentences possible. Inversion,
however, particularly in verse, was greatly practised. Persian and Arabic
loan-words and grammatical forms became more numerous and Far Eastern
loan-words were totally forgotten.
6. In modern Turkish, the syntactical influence of Persian in sentence
constructions has left few traces. On the other hand, modern writers
have drawn fully on the resources of popular speech; the language has thus
been greatly enriched and rendered much more expressive, thanks to the
harmonious combination of the synthetic structure of the old language with
the freer construction and more vivid turns of expression of everyday spoken
Turkish.
New constructions of subordinate clauses with conditional or temporal
force, formed from a finite verb followed by the interrogative ending, have
become meaningless.
In the Turkish vocabulary, Persian and Arabic loan-words have become
much less numerous, giving place to Turkish words, some of which have
even been invented. Loan-words from the European languages, mainly at
first from Italian then from French, are to be noticed.
7. Thus, we see that in the process of evolution, owing partly at least to the
influence of languages of other structural types, both Eastern and Western,
Turkish has developed conjunctions, other types of subordinate clauses, and
a freer word-order in the sentence.
BIBLIOGKAPHY
TURKISH GRAMMAR & LEXICOGRAPHY
K.Gronbech, Der turkische Sprachbau, Copenhagen, 1936, 182 pp. ; C.F. Voegelin
and M. E. Ellinhausen, "Turkish Structure," Journal of the American Oriental
Society, LXHI, 1943, pp. 34-56, and American Oriental Society Publication antf
Offprint Series,T$o. 17, Indiana University ; J.Deny, "Structure de la langue turque/'
Confirences de VInstitut de IAnguistique de VUniversiU de Paris, Paris, IX and X,
1949-50, 35 pp. ; "Langues turques," Les Langues du Monde, Societi de Lmguistiques
de Paris, Paris, 1952, pp. 331-68; N. Poppe, "Altaisch und Urturkisch," Ungari-
1074
Architecture
sche Jahrbucher, VI, 1926, pp. 94-121; "Plural Suffixes in the Altaic Languages,"
Ural-AUaische JaJirbucher, XXIV/3-4, 1952, pp. 65-84; "Einige Lautgesetze und
ihre Bedeutung zur Frage der mongolisch-turkischen Sprachbeziehungen," ibid.,
XXX/1-2, 1958, pp. 93-97; P. Pelliot, "Les formes avec et sans q- (k-) en turc
et en mongol," Toung Poo, XXXVII, 1944, pp. 73-101; D. Sinor, "D'un mor-
pheme particulierement repandu dans les langues ouralo-altaiques," ibid., XXXVII,
1944, pp. 135-52; . "Le Probleme de la parente des langues ouralo-altaiques,"
Revue de Geographie Humaine et d'Ethnologie, I, 1948, pp. 65-69; K. H. Menges,
"Altaic Languages," Collier's Encyclopaedia, I, New York City, 1949, pp. 414-19;
W. Kotwicz, Les pronoms dans les langues altaiques, Cracow, 1936, 80 pp.; "Contri-
butions aux etudes altaiques," Bocznik Orientalistyczny, XVI, 1950, pp. 327-68;
"Studia nad jezykami altajskimi," ibid., pp. 1-134; A. Temir, "Turkce ve mogolca
arasinda ilgiler," Ankara Vniversitesi Dil ve Tarih-Co§rafya Fakultesi Dergisi,
III/1-2, 1955, pp. 1-25; G. J. Ramstedt, Einfuhrung in die altaische Sprachwissen-
schaft, I, Lautlehre, Helsinki, 1957; A. Caferoglu, "Uygurlarda hukuk ve maliye
istilahlari," Turkiyat Mecmuasi, IV, 1934, pp. 1-47.
Part 2. Fine Arts
Chapter LV
ARCHITECTURE
THE FIRST THREE CENTURIES OF MUSLIM
ARCHITECTURE
Arabia, at the rise of Islam, does not appear to have possessed anything
worthy of the name of architecture. Only a small proportion of the population
was settled and hived in dwellings which were scarcely more than hovels.
Those who lived in mud-brick houses were called ahl ai-madar, and the Bedouin,
from their tents of camel's-hair cloth, ahl al-wabar.
The sanctuary at Mecca, in the time of the Prophet Muhammad, merely
consisted of a small roofless enclosure, oblong in shape, formed by four walls
a little higher than a man, built of rough stones laid dry. Within this enclosure
was the sacred well of Zamzam.
When the Prophet Muhammad, as a result of the hostility of the unbelieving
Meccans, migrated to Medina, he built a house for himself and his family. It
consisted of an enclosure about one hundred cubits square of mud-bricks, with
a portico on the south side made of palm trunks used as columns to support
a roof of palm leaves and mud. Against the outer side of the east wall were
built small huts (hujardt) for the Prophet's wives, all opening into the courtyard.
1075
A History of Muslim Philosophy
We have the description of these huts, preserved by ibn Sa'd, 1 on the authority
of a man named 'Abd Allah ibn Yazid who saw them just before they were
demolished by order of al-Walid. "There were four houses of mud-bricks,
with apartments partitioned off by palm branches, and five houses made of
palm branches plastered with mud and not divided into rooms. Over the
doors were curtains of black hair-cloth. Each curtain measured 3x3 cubits.
One could reach the roof with the hand." Such was the house of the leader
of the community at Medina.
The Dome of the Rock at Jerusalem, the oldest existing monument of
Muslim architecture, was built by the Caliph 'Abd al-Malik and completed
in 72/691. It was an annular building and consisted of a wooden dome, set
on a high drum, pierced by sixteen windows and resting on four piers and
twelve columns, placed in a circle. This circle of supports was placed in the
centre of a large octagon, averaging about 20.59 m. a side, formed by
eight walls, each pierced by five windows in their upper half. There was a
door in each of the four sides of the octagon. The space between the circle
and the octagon being too great to be conveniently spanned by single beams,
an intermediate octagon was placed between the two to provide the necessary
support for the roof. The two concentric ambulatories thus formed were
intended for the performance of the tawdf. The piers and columns were so
planned that, instead of concealing one another, they permit, from almost
any position, a view right across the building. A twist of about 2 J degrees
was given to the central ring of supports, with the result that an observer
entering by any door can see not only the central column in front of him but
also the central column on the far side. The exterior was always panelled
with marble for half its height, as it is today, but the upper part was originally
covered with glass mosaic (fusaifisa) like the inner arcades. This was replaced
by the present coating of faience by Sultan Sulaiman in 959/1552. The
harmony of its proportions and the richness of its decoration make the Dome
of the Rock one of the most beautiful buildings in the world.
The Great Mosque of Damascus. — 'Abd al-Malik died in 86/705 and was
succeeded by his son al-Walid, who immediately began the construction of
the Great Mosque of Damascus. A curious situation had prevailed here since
the conquest. A great sanctuary of a Syrian god existed here, consisting of
a temenos, or sacred enclosure, measuring 100 m. from north to south and
150 m. from east to west, set in an outer enclosure over 300 m. square. Within
the temenos was a temple.
In the fourth century Christianity became the State religion and Theodosius
(379-395 A.D.) converted the temple into a church. 2 After the Arab conquest,
the temenos was divided between Muslims and Christians. Ibn Shakir says
that they both "entered by the same doorway, placed on the south side
1 Tabaqat, Vol. XLIII, p. 190.
2 Malalas, Chronographia, pp. 344-45.
Architecture
where is now the great mihrdb; then the Christians turned to the west towards
their church {i.e., the converted temple), and the Muslims to the right to
reach their mosque, presumably under the southern colonnade of the temenos
where is now the "mihrdb of the Companions of the Prophet." As for the
corner towers, ibn al-Faqih (p. 108) says: "The minarets (mi'dhanah) which
are in the Damascus Mosque were originally watch towers in the Greek
days .... When al-Walid turned the whole area into a mosque, he left these
in their old condition." Mas'Qdi 3 says: "Then came Christianity and it became
a church; then came Islam and it became a mosque. Al-Walid built it solidly
and the saivdmi' (the four corner towers) were not changed. They serve for
the call to prayers at the present day." This state of affairs lasted until al-
Walid, after bargaining with the Christians, demolished everything except
the outer walls and the corner towers and built the present mosque.
The mosque had a court (sahn), an oblong rectangle, surrounded on three
sides by a portico. On the south side was the sanctuary nearly 136 m. in length
and a little over 37 m. in depth, formed by three arcades running parallel to
the south wall. A broad transept, running from north to south, cut these
arcades into two nearly equal halves, each half consisting of eleven arches.
Above these arcades was a second tier of small arches, there being twe of
these small arches to every one of the main arches below. The arched openings
were filled with stucco lattices, and must be regarded as windows. The interior
was adequately lit, even when the doors of the main arches next to the safari
were closed.
The decoration consisted of marble panelling (some parts of the original
panelling exist next to the east entrance) above which ran a golden karmah or
vine-scroll frieze, and above that was glass mosaic (fusaifisa) right up to the
ceiling. A considerable amount has survived the three fires of 462/1069, 804/
1401, and 1311/1893, and may still be seen under the west portico (over 34 m.
in length and nearly 7 m. high), where the famous panorama of the Barada
(the river of Damascus) is in full view. When intact the surface of the fusaifisa
must have been greater than in any building in existence ! The Great Mosque
of Damascus was rightly regarded by medieval Muslims as one of the seven
wonders of of the world. Al-Walid also enlarged and rebuilt the Great Mosque
of Medina in 89/708 wherein the concave mihrdb appeared for the first time.
Another building due to al-Walid was the audience hall and hammdm,
known today as Qusair 'Amrah, in Transjordan. It consists of an audience
hall about 10 m. square, with two slightly pointed transverse arches supporting
three tunnel- vaults. There is a vaulted recess on the side opposite the entrance,
with a small vaulted room on either side of it. A door on the east side gives
access to the hammdm, which consists of three small rooms successively
covered by a tunnel vault, a cross vault, and a dome. The latter was the
calidarium, or hot chamber, and under the floor are hypocausts exactly as
Prairies, Vol. IV, pp. 90-91.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
in a Roman bath. But most remarkable of all are the paintings which cover
the walls, mostly scenes from daily life, a hunting scene, and figures symbolizing
history, poetry, and philosophy with the words in Greek above their heads.
The dome of the adidarium was painted to represent the vault of heaven, with
the Great Bear, the Little Bear, the signs of the Zodiac, etc. But most important
of all was the painting of the enemies of Islam defeated by the Umayyads,
with their names written above them in Greek and Arabic: Qaisar (the
Byzantine Emperor), Rodorik (the Visigothic King of Spain), Chosroes,
Negus (the King of Abyssinia), and two more names which have been
obliterated.
Painting, contrary to the popular idea, is not forbidden by any passage
in the Qur'an, and hostility to it took proper theological form only towards
the end of the second/eighth century. 4
To sum up, the monuments of Umayyad architecture are really magnificent
structures of cut stone with arcades resting on marble columns, splendidly
decorated internally with marble panelling and mosaic (fusaifisa). The
mosques are nearly always covered with a gable roof. The minarets were tall,
square towers, derived from the church towers of pre-Muslim Syria, and the
triple-aisled sanctuaries were due to the same influence. Umayyad monuments
exhibit a mixture of influences, Syria occupying the first place and Persia
the second, while Egyptian influence is definitely demonstrable at the end
of this period at Mushatta. Umayyad architecture employed the following
devices: the semi-circular, the horse-shoe and the pointed arch, flat arches
or lintels with a semicircular relieving arch above, joggled voussoirs, tunnel-
vaults in stone and brick, wooden domes, and stone domes on true spherical-
triangle pendentives. The squinch does not appear to have been employed.
But we know from the descriptions of early authors that a type of mosque
which prevailed in Iraq had walls of bricks (sometimes of mud-bricks) and
its flat timber roof rested directly on the columns without the intermediary
of arches. Here we have a direct link between the ancient Persian audience-
hall (apadana) and the flat-roofed portico (taldr) of more recent Persian
palaces.
At about this time the Aqsa Mosque at Jerusalem was partly rebuilt by
the Caliph al-Mahdi. Recent research enables us to affirm that it then con-
sisted of a central aisle, 11.50 m. wide, with seven aisles to right and seven to
left, each about 6.15 m. in width, all covered by gable roofs and all perpendicular
to the qiblah wall. There was a great wooden dome at the end of the central
aisle. On the north side was a large central door with seven smaller ones to
right and left, and eleven "unornamented" ones on the eastern side.
°This mosque had a great influence on the Great Mosque of Cordova built
in 170/786-787 by 'Abd al-Rahman I, the last survivor of the Umayyad family.
* K. A. C. Creswell, "Lawfulness of Painting
XL-XII, pp. 159-66.
l Early Islam," Ars Isktrnica,
Architecture
It was added to on three occasions but this earliest part still exists; as at
Jerusalem, the aisles, of which there are eleven, all run perpendicular to the
back wall; they are all covered by parallel gable roofs, and the central one
is wider than the rest. The influence of Syria in Spain at this time is not
surprising, for Spain was full of Syrian refugees.
Another building of this period of great importance in the history of archi-
tecture is the Cistern of Ramlah in Palestine ; it consists of a subterranean
excavation 8 m. deep divided into six aisles by five arcades of four arches
each, all of which are pointed and appear to be struck from two centres,
varying from one-seventh to one-fifth of the span apart. And there can be
no doubt about the date, for on the plaster of the vault is a Kufic inscription
of Dhu al-Hijjah 172/May 789. It is, therefore, centuries earlier than the
earliest pointed arches in Europe.
The Arabs first set foot on the North African soil as conquerors in 19/640
under the courageous command of 'Amr ibn al-'As. The whole of Egypt was
occupied within less than two years and ibn al-'As made the military camp
at al-Fustat, a site south of modern Cairo. Al-Fustat continued to be the
capital of Egypt until the Fatimids in 360/969 founded Cairo. 'Amr con-
structed a simple mosque at al-Fustat, the first in Africa, in 20-21/641-642.
Enlarged and improved under the Umayyads, this structure, in the course
of time, grew into the celebrated mosque of al-Fustat.
The mosque of 'Amr was first enlarged at the order of Caliph Mu'awiyah
in 53/673 6 and four minarets were erected at the four corners. This was the
first time that minarets were introduced in any Muslim structure.
The next major enlargement of this mosque took place during the reign of
Caliph al-Mamiin in 212/827 at the hands of 'Abd Allah ibn Tahir, Governor
of Egypt. Since then it has been repaired and rebuilt more than once.
The mosque of 'Amr is now a big enclosure. The side walls were each pierced
by twenty-two windows lighting the twenty-two aisles. There were three
mihrabs and seven arcades in the sanctuary ; each arcade consisted of nineteen
arches on twenty columns. The arcades were all braced with decorated tie-
beams.
We must now speak of the great mosque of Siisa on the gulf of Gabes, which,
the inscription of its wall tells us, was built by abu al- 'Abbas ibn al-Aghlab
in 236/850-51. It consists of a perfectly regular rectangle measuring 49.39 m. x
57. 1 6 m. internally, with irregular annexes to east and west. The sahn, measuring
roughly 41 m. x 22.25 m., is surrounded by low arcades of slightly horse-shoe
form, resting on squat T-shaped piers. There are eleven arches to north and
south and six to east and west. These arches are of horse-shoe form, the
maximum span of each being equal to the space between the piers below.
The sanctuary consists of thirteen aisles, formed by twelve arcades of six
5 Idem, A Short Account of Early Muslim Architecture, Pelican Edition, London,
1958, p. 13.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
arches running from north to south, each divided into six bays by other
arcades running from east to west. Internally it is perfectly plain except for
a splay-face moulding, immediately above which is a fine inscription frieze
in simple undecorated Kufic, the maximum height of the characters being
28 m. The frieze in which they are carved curves forward slightly to com-
pensate for fore-shortening and thus help the observer at ground level. This
is the earliest known example of this treatment, which passed into Egypt
with the Fatimids and appears in the Mosque of al- Hakim, 380-403/990-1013.
The Great Mosque of Samarra was built by the Caliph al-Mutawakkil ; the
work was begun in 234/848-849 and finished in Ramadan 237/February-March
852. It is the largest mosque ever built, for its outer walls form an immense
rectangle of kiln-baked bricks measuing roughly 240 m. deep internally by
156 m. wide (proportion approximately as 3 : 2); its area, therefore, is nearly
38,000 sq. m. Only the enclosing walls have been preserved. The mosque
proper was surrounded by an outer enclosure, or ziyadah, on the east, north,
and west sides, and air photographs show that the great rectangle thus formed
stood in a still greater enclosure measuring 376 m. x 444 m. The minaret, the
famous Malwiyah, stands free at a distance of 27 1 m. from the north wall
of the mosque. There is a socle 3 m. high on which rests a spiral tower with a
ramp about 2.30 m. wide, which winds round in a counterclockwise direction
until it has made five complete turns. The rise for each turn is 6.10 m., but
as the length of each turn is less than the previous one it follows that the
slope inevitably becomes steeper and steeper. At the summit of this spiral
part is a cylindrical storey, decorated with eight recesses, each set in a shallow
frame. The southern niche frames a doorway at which the ramp ends; it
opens on to a steep staircase, at first straight then spiral, leading to the top
platform, which is 50 m. above the socle. From eight holes to be seen here
Herzfeld concluded that there was probably a little pavilion on wooden columns.
A few years later, between 246-247/860-861, another immense mosque was
built by the same Caliph at Abu Dulaf to the north of Samarra.
Ten years later, important works were carried out in the Great Mosque
of Qairawan by Abu Ibrahim Ahmad, who reduced the width of the central
aisles by about 1.20 m. by constructing two new arcades in contact with the
old ones. The arches of these arcades are pointed horse-shoe arches instead
of round horse-shoe arches like those with which they are in contact. He also
built three free-standing arches and one wall-arch of the same type to carry a
fluted dome in front of the mihrab. They rise to a height of 9.15 m. and the
square thus formed is terminated above by a cornice, its top edge being 10.83 m.
from the ground. On it rests the octagonal zone of transition, 2.15 m. in height,
which is formed by eight semicircular arches springing from colonnettes
resting on little corbels inserted in the cornice just mentioned. The drum is
composed of eight arched windows and sixteen arched panels arranged in
pairs between the windows. The dome, which is 5.80 m. in diameter, has
twenty-four ribs, each springing from a little corbel; between the ribs are
concave segments, 30 cm. deep at the base and diminishing to nothing afc
the apex. The whole composition is charming. Externally the dome resembles
a Cantaloup melon, with twenty-four convex ribs (corresponding to the
twenty-four concave segments) which taper to nothing at the apex. Abu
Ibrahim's work was carried out in 248/862. He also lined the mifyrab with a
series of very beautiful carved marble panels assembled in four tiers of seven
panels each, the total height being 2.70 m. He also decorated the face of the
vnifyrab and the wall surrounding it with lustre tiles about 21 cm. square. The
marble panels and the tiles were imported by him from Iraq, and the latter
constitute the oldest examples of lustre pottery of certain date.
It was during the reign of Ahmad ibn Tulun (254-270/868-884), the first
Muslim sovereign of independent Egypt, that Muslim architecture properly
developed in the Nile Valley, He was the son of a Turkish slave and was born
and brought up in Samarra. He proved to be a great administrator and great
builder. Al-Qata'i, the new quarter of al-Fustat, was adorned with magnificent
buildings. He built for himself a palace which went by the name of al-Maidan
as there was a vast ground in front of the palace where polo matches took
place. The palace had nine gates and one of them was called Bab al-Salat
(Gate of Prayer). He also built a hospital at an expense of 60,000 dinars.
But his greatest work, which still stands, is his famous mosque; it cost
him 120,000 dinars. 6 It exhibits strong influence of the Samarra school as
ibn Tulun himself came from Samarra and his architects and craftmen too
were mostly Iraqis. 7 This Iraqi impact is clearly visible in the piers of the
mosque and in its ornamental work in wood and stucco.
The mosque of ibn Tulun is built on the outcrop of a rock and impresses
the visitor by its great size and the noble simplicity of its plan. It consists of
a sahm, 302 sq. ft. surrounded by riwdqs, five aisles deep. There are thirteen
pointed arches on each side. The sanctuary is formed by five arcades of seven-
teen arches each. The arches are surrounded by a continuous band of ornament.
Above runs a broad frieze of stucco rosettes each in an octagonal frame.
The variety of designs, some composed of straight lines, others triangular,
and still others circular and interlacing, is extraordinary. The windows form
one of the most beautiful features of the mosque. They are 128 in number.
Their pattern is a mesh of equilateral triangles by grouping six of which we
can form hexagons. The minaret, which is built of hivestone, is almost a
copy of the Malwiyah of Samarra. About one-seventeenth of the Qur'an is
inscribed in beautiful Kufic characters on the wooden frieze round the inside
of the building just below the flat timbered roof. 8
Tulunid Egypt could also boast of a very unusual structure; it was the
palace of Ahmad ibn Tulun's son, Khumarawaih (271-282/884-895). The walls
• Ibn Khallikan, Wafayat al-A'yan, Cairo, 1299/1881, Vol. I, p. 97; ibn Taghri-
bardi, al-Nujum al-Zahirah fi Muluk Misr w-al-Qahirah, Vol. II, Leiden, 1855, p. 8.
7 Al-Muqaffa', p. 362, quoted by Guest in E. G. Browne Memorial Volume, p. 171.
8 P. K. Hitti, History of the Arabs, London, 1949, p. 454.
1081
A History of Muslim Philosophy
of its golden hall were covered with gold and decorated with bas-reliefs
of himself, his wives, and his songstresses. 9 These life-size figures were carved
in wood.
Under the 'Abbasids the Hellenistic influence of Syria was replaced by
the surviving influence of Sassanian Persia, which profoundly modified the
art and architecture, and this gave birth to the art of Samarra, the influence
of which extended to Egypt under ibn TUlun, and even Nlshapur and Bahrain.
In palace architecture there was a vast difference between one of the Umayyads
and that of the 'Abbasids, partly due to the adoption of Persian ideas of
royalty which almost deified the king; hence elaborate throne-rooms, generally
domed, for private audience, preceded by a vaulted llwan (or four radiating
llwans) for public audience. The baits also were different, following the type
of Qaar-i Sbjrin and not the Syrian type of Mushatta and Qasr al-Tuba. The
scale was immense and axial planning was a marked feature. But all are built
of brick and a great part of that basest of materials— mud-brick— hidden
by thick coats of stucco. A new type of pointed arch appears— the four-
centred arch. The earliest existing squinches in Islam date from this period.
An important innovation was the introduction of lustre tiles, the earliest
examples being those brought to Qairawan from Iraq in 248/862. Bands of
inscription were usually made to stand out on a blue background. But the
widespread influence of the 'Abbasid art did not extend to Spain, where the
Umayyad art, brought thither by Syrian refugees, was still full of life.
MUSLIM ARCHITECTURE IN LATER CENTURIES
1. Muslim Architecture in North Africa
The Fatimids.—When the Fatimids came to power in Egypt in i
they built a new city north of al-Fustat and called it al-Qahirah (Cairo).
Since then Cairo has always been the capital of Egypt. The great mosque of
al-Azhar was also built almost at the same time (361/972). The original sections
of al-Azhar, which still exist, are built in brick and have pointed arches.
The minaret is of the heavy square type. The next Fatimid mosque, completed
by al-Hakim in 403/1012, follows the al-Azhar plan and has a cupola of
brickwork supported on an octagonal drum above the prayer niche. The
triumph of stone over brick, initiated by al-Hakim, was not effected until
the beginning of the sixth/twelfth century. The first appearance of corbelled
niche is found in the mosque of al-Qamar (519/1125). This pillared mosque
displays bold designs and austere Kiific inscriptions.
The grandeur of Fatimid architecture may well be imagined from the
• Ibn Taghribardi, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 57-58; Maqrlzi, al-Khitat w-al-Athar,
Cairo, 1911, Vol. I, p. 316-17.
Architecture
testimony of the massive gates of which three are extant in Cairo : Bab Zawilah,
Bab al-Nasr, and Bab al-Futuh. 10
The Mamluks. — While the Tulunid and Fatimid architecture in Egypt was
inspired by Iraq and Iran respectively, the Mamluk monuments were influenced
by the Ayyubi school of Syria. The Mamluks produced some of the most
exquisite structures. Made of fine and durable stone, these monuments are
distinguished for their strength and solidity. Their simple decorative motif
assumes infinite grace.
Mamluk monuments may be roughly divided into three categories: the
madrasah-mosque monuments, the citadels, and the hospitals, besides other
public works like canals and aqueducts. The madrasah type was first introduced
in Egypt by Sultan Salah al-Din Ayyubi of the Crusade fame. Although none
of these institutions exist today, their impact may easily be noticed in the
collegiate mosque of Sultan al- Hasan (748-63/1347-61).
One of the early monuments of the Mamluk period is the Great Mosque
of Baibars (658-676/1260-1277). It was built in 668/1269. Napoleon used it as
a fort when he was in Egypt. Al-Malik al-Mansur Saif al-Din Qalawun (678-689/
1279-1290), a great builder, erected a hospital connected with a madrasah and
a mausoleum with its remarkable arabesque tracery and fine marble mosaic.
This hospital, known as al-Maristan al-Mansuri, was completed with the mos-
que and the attached school in 683/1284. It had special wards for segregating
patients of various diseases and contained laboratories, dispensaries, baths,
kitchens, and store-rooms. 11
His son and successor al-Nasir (692-740/1293-1340) surpassed him in
the construction of public works. He dug a canal connecting Alexandria
with the Nile employing one hundred thousand men; built an aqueduct
connecting his far-famed citadel al-Qasr al-Ablaq (the palace of varied colours)
at Cairo with the river; founded thirty mosques at various places in his king-
dom; and provided for public use drinking fountains (sabils), baths, and
schools. Inside his citadel he built a mosque the material for which was
brought from 'Akka.
Another noteworthy builder among the Mamluks was al-Nasir's son, Sultan
Hasan, whose collegiate mosque is the most splendid example of Mamluk archi-
tecture. It consists of a square sahn (central court) which is flanked by four
llwans (halls) forming the four arms of a cross. Perhaps these unique cruciforms
were each meant for the four major schools of Muslim theologfy. Behind the
qiblah-waU of this mosque is the mausoleum of Sultan Hasan which was built
in 767/1363. It is surmounted by a large dome made of bricks. The pendentives
are in wood. In its general appearance it seems to have been inspired by the
Sultanlyyah tomb of Sultan Khuda Bandah (d. 706/1306).
During the Mamluk period the use of brick was abandoned in minaret
construction in favour of stone. The cruciform plan of school-mosque structure
10 Maqrizi, op. cit., p. 380.
» Ibid., Vol. II, pp. 406-07.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
was perfected. Domes, renowned for their lightness, beauty of outline, and
exessively rich decoration, were constructed. Stones of different colours in
alternate courses (abldq) were utilized for striped masonry and decorations.
Geometrical arabesques and KMc letterings were also profusely used.
Although the last hundred years of the Mamliik rule are a period of decline,
several impressive monuments of that period have escaped the ravages of
time and turmoil. For instance, the mosque and mausoleum of Barqiiq
(785-800/1383-1398), the Mosque of Qa'it Bay (873-900/1468-1495), and the
mosque of al-Ghauri (906-922/1500-1516). The Mosque of Qa'it Bay consists
of a mosque proper, a tomb, a fountain, and a school. It is made of red and
white stone and the dome is decorated with a charming network of foliage
and rosette. Elaborate arabesque ornamentation does not seem to have
affected its traditional vigour and virile elegance.
Qairawan.— During the reign of Caliph Mu'a-wiyah, his famous general,
'Uqbah ibn Nan' invaded the Maghrib (the land west of Egypt) and founded
the famous military city of al- Qairawan (49/670) south of Tunis. 'Uqbah
built the mosque and his headquarters in the centre and grouped dwellings
around them just as it had been done at other military towns of al-Kufah,
Basrah, and al-Fustat. 12 The famous mosque of Qairawan, the fourth most
sacred Muslim sanctuary in the world, was built several times by the succes-
sors of 'Uqbah and finally by the Aghlabid ruler, Ziadat Allah I (202-223/
817-838).
The Qairawan mosque is a big oblong enclosure. The sahn, trapezoidal in
shape is entirely paved with marble. The arcades on the north side rest on
columns, but the others rest on rectangular piers with two friezes with standing
columns attached to their front face. The sanctuary, like the Cordova mosque
sanctuary, is a hall of columns. It is divided into seventeen aisles by sixteen
arcades. Each of these arcades consists of seven arches. They are all of the
round horse-shoe type. The mihrab as well as the surrounding structure from
top to bottom is constructed of white marble covered with carvings. Part
of this decoration consists of inscriptions, the rest forms arabesques of various
patterns. Round the mihrab are exquisite columns, also made of marble.
There is a fine pair of orange-red marble columns situated in front of the
mihrab which is actually a recess, horse-shoe in plan. It is lined with a series
of marble panels, twenty-eight in number. The semi-dome has a wooden
lining covere* with a coating to which is applied the painted decoration
consisting of vine scrolls forming loops, filled in most cases by a five-lobed
vine leaf and a bunch of grapes.
The face of the mihrab is decorated with lustre tiles, 139 in number.
At the northern end of the sahn stands the famous minaret in great pro-
minence on a square base. It has three storeys all squarish or rectangular.
At the top is a dome. The minaret is made of bricks. This is the oldest minaret
18 Ibid., Vol. II, p. 248.
on the African soil and is quite different from the spiral malmyahs of the
mosques of Samarra and the mosque of ibn Tulun.
In this region of al-Maghrib is found perhaps the earliest monument of
Muslim military architecture. It is known as Qal'ah Bani Hammad. This
citadel was built by Hammad bin Yusuf al-Barbari in the province of Con-
stantine (Algeria) in 370/980. It contains a grand mosque, a reservoir, a
palace, and some other constructions that were probably used for administra-
tive purposes. The mosque contains a square minaret in the style of Qairawan
but, unlike Qairawan, there are no corridors. The citadel is in ruins now.
2. Muslim Architecture in Spain
Muslim architecture in Spain is considered a great marvel of aesthetic
ingenuity. The magnificent mosque and palaces, gardens and citadels, foun-
tains and aqueducts, public baths and private dwellings that 'Abd al-Rahman I
(139-172/756-788) and his successors built at Cordova, Seville, Granada, and
other cities of this westernmost outpost of Islamic culture, were unparalleled
in the entire civilized world.
Spain was conquered by the Arab generals of the Umayyad Caliphs between
93/711 and 527/1132. The capital of the Spanish province of the Empire was
Cordova. Soon Arab settlements, especially Syrian, sprang up everywhere. It
was these Syrians whom the Governors of Cordova employed as artisans and
architects for new constructions, 13 and "the city was adorned with numerous
beautiful structures." 14 It is, therefore, natural that Muslim architecture
in Spain mostly exhibits Syrian features.
But a systematic embellishment of Spanish towns, with exquisite structures,
actually started when 'Abd al-Rahman I founded the independent Umayyad
Kingdom of Spain. This process lasted till the death of ibn Ahmar (d. 671/
1272), builder of the famous castle and palace of Alhambra.
During the reign of the Umayyad Caliphs, Cordova grew into the most
magnificent city in the West. "The jewel of the world," according to a con-
temporary Saxon nun, 15 contained one hundred and thirteen thousand homes,
twenty-one suburbs, seven hundred mosques, 18 and three hundred public baths.
One ofthe first projects of 'Abd al-Rahman I was to build an aqueduct for the
supply of pure water to the capital. He also built a wall round the city and
erected for himself a palace called Munyat al-Rusafah outside Cordova in
imitation of the palace built by his grandfather, Caliph Hisham, in northern
Syria.
'Abd al-Rahman also laid the foundation of the great mosque of Cordova in
170/786. It was finished in a year at a cost of 80,000 dinars (£40,000)."
13 K. A. C. Creswell, A Short Account of Early Muslim Architecture, p. 227.
14 Ameer Ali, A Short History of the Saracens, London, 1951, p. 515.
16 P. K. Hitti, op. cit., p. 527.
14 Maqqari, Nafh al-Tib, Vol. I, p. 355.
17 Ibn Adhari, p. 245, quoted by Creswell, op. cit., p. 214.
1085
A History of Muslim Philosophy-
It is the third largest mosque in the world covering an area of 26,500 sq. yards.
It is a vast rectangle, free on all sides. Covered porticoes surround it on every
side except the southern where there are seventeen arches. The sanctuary
is a huge hall of nineteen aisles, the roof of which rests on eighteen arcades.
It could once be entered from the street by thirteen doors. The sahn is
surrounded by porticoes.
The sanctuary of this mosque is a forest of columns. They exhibit great
variation of types. Some are smooth, others fluted, a few even have spiral
flutings. The arcades too are of a remarkable design.
The mosque underwent several improvements and enlargements at the
hands of successive rulers. For instance, 'Abd al-Rahman III built a minaret
73 cubits high "measured to the highest point of the open dome pavilion. On
the summit of this dome are golden and silver apples. Two were of pure gold
and one of silver. Below and above each were lilies very beautifully worked out,
and at the end of the span was a little golden pomegranate." 18 Similarly, al-
Hakam built a dome in front of the mihrab and it was decorated in gold mosaic.
Although the architectural pattern of the great mosque, with its aisles
running parallel to the back wall, the horse-shoe arches, the parallel gable
roofs, and the arcades round the sdfyn, show clear Syrian inspiration, the double
tier of arcades are the most original features of the great mosque.
'Abd al-Rahman III (207-238/822-852) also erected a palatial mansion and
called it al-Zahra', naming it after his wife. It stood on one of the spurs of
the Sierra Morena overlooking the Guadalquivir (Wadi cd-Kabir). It was
started in 221/836. Marble was brought from Carthage and Numidia. Columns
as well as basins, with golden statues, were imported from Constantinople.
It took 10,000 workmen to build it in about twenty years. The palace had
four hundred rooms and apartments. The eastern hall was adorned with
fountains, in which were placed golden statues of animals, set with precious
stones. Water flowed through the mouth of these beautiful figures. The
audience chamber was an exquisite piece of workmanship in marble and gold
studded with jewels.
The seventh/thirteenth-century citadel-castle of Alhambra (the Red Palace)
built by ibn Ahmar (671/1272) in Granada is another great architectural
legacy of the Muslims in Spain. It is situated on a hilly terrace on the remains
of an earlier Umayyad citadel. It was enlarged and embellished by his three
"This acropolis of Granada with its exquisite decoration in mosaics,
stalactites and inscriptions, was conceived and constructed" on a grand scale
and is without dispute "the last word in such workmanship." 19 In the words
of Ameer Ali, "The towers, citadels, and palaces [at Alhambra], with their
light and elegant architecture, the graceful porticos and colonnades, the
18 Al-Maqqari, op. cit., Vol. I, pp. 369-70.
19 P. K. Hitti, op. cit., p. 595.
domes and ceilings still glowing with tints which have lost none of their
original brilliancy; the airy halls, constructed to admit the perfume of the
surrounding gardens; the numberless fountains over which the owners had
such perfect control, that the water could be made high or low, visible or
invisible at pleasure, sometimes allowed to spout in the air, at other times to
spread out in fountains, and serene azure sky ; the lovely arabesques, paintings
and mosaics finished with such care and accuracy as to make even the smallest
apartments fascinating, and illuminated in varied shades of gold, pink, light
blue, and dusky purple; the lovely dados of porcelain mosaic of various
figures and colours; the beautiful Hall of lions with its cloister of a hundred
and twenty-eight slender and graceful columns, its blue-and-white pavement,
its harmony of scarlet, azure and gold; the arabesques glowing with colour
like the pattern on a cashmere shawl, its lovely marble filagree filling in the
arches, its beautiful cupolas, its famous alabaster cup in the centre; the
enchanting Hall of Music, where the Court sat and listened to the music of
the performers in the tribunes above; the beautiful seraglio with its delicate
and graceful brass lattice work and exquisite ceilings; the lovely colouring
of the stalactites in the larger halls and of the conical lining in the smaller
chambers," 20 made this architectural monument one of the wonders of the
world.
There was another royal villa within the walls of Granada. It was called
al-Generalifife (a corruption of Jami'ah al-'Arif). It also was considered a
marvel of beauty with fountains, groves, and flowers. The gardens were
terraced in the form of an amphitheatre.
The Alcazar (al-Qasr) of Seville is another notable contribution of the
Muslims. It was first built by a Toledo architect for the Muwahhid Governor
in 596-597/1199-1200. Of the many Alcazars in Cordova, Toledo, and other
Spanish towns, the Seville Alcazar is the most renowned and the only one
surviving. This gracefully decorated castle was till recently used as residence
by the Spanish rulers. There is another Muwahhid monument in Seville, the
Giralda tower, which was originally the minaret of the great mosque. It was
erected in 580/1184 and was decorated with cusped arcading. 21
3. Muslim Architecture in Iran
History records that the earliest mosque in Iran was Masjid al-Thaur built
at Qazwin in 81/700, but the earliest Islamic monument so far discovered
in Iran is the mosque known as Tariq Khanah at Damghan, halfway between
Teheran and Meshed. It was built between 133/750 and 170/786. According
to M. Goddard, "by the harmony of its proportions and masses, it is still
one of the most magnificent buildings of Islam." It was constructed on the
vault system.
20 Ameer Ali, op. cit., pp. 567-68.
» P. K. Hitti, op. cit., p. 595.
A History of Muslim Philosophy
Iranian buildings throughout the Muslim period were known for their
exquisite domes. These domes never arose from the Roman pendentive
employed by the Byzantines but from the more primitive squinch arch which
spanned the angles of the square and were converted into an octagon. The
earliest Muslim dome in Persia is that of Great Mosque at Qum, south of
Teheran. It was built by abu Sa'dain Husain in 256/878 and was eighty
feet high.
Since then three different types of domes have been built in Iran: (1) single
domes, (2) true double domes, and (3) an inner dome concealed by a polyhedral
tent dome or a conical roof. Single domes were popular during the Saljuq
period and were direct descendants of the Sassanian domes. The most con-
spicuous and representative dome of the second type may be seen over the
tomb of Sultan Sanjar at Merv (552/1157) while the most renowned earlier
example of the third type is the Gumbad-i Qabus (398/1007).
The Gumbad-i Qabus was built by Shams al-Ma'ali 'Abd al- Hasan Qabus,
the ruler of Gurgan and Tabaristan in 397/1006. This mausoleum is actually
a cylindrical tower with a conical top. The inside is empty, a continuous void
from ground to the roof where it is domed with a tent-like cone. The total
height of the tower is a Utile over 167 feet. It is built of burnt brick. There
are two Kufic inscriptions also, one 26 ft. 3 ins. above the ground and the other
just under the corbel.
These tomb-towers hold an important place in the Saljuq architecture. They
are mostly found in Adharbaijan and across the border in Quniyah. Pro-
minent among these are Khalifah Ghazi at Amasia, the tomb-tower within
the mosque of Sultan 'Ali al-Din at Quniyah and the tomb-towers at Akhlat
and Kaisari.
These tomb-towers are dressed in stone. They are usually octagonal in
shape with conical roofs. The exterior faces are decorated with arcading cut
in high relief on the stones of the structure. Most of the tombs have four
windows or portals. The interior is usually plain and the chamber is always
covered by an inner dome of cut stone. Built nights of steps to these chambers
are rarely found. They were entered probably by means of a ladder.
The Saljiiqs concentrated mainly on the construction of mosques and it
was during their reign that the basis for the standard Iranian mosque was
firmly laid. Its features were: at the beginning of a longitudinal axis an Ivan
portal leads into an open court; arcades surrounding the court are interrupted
by four Ivans, two on the longitudinal axis and two on the cross axis with
prayer halls at the back of the arcades; the major Ivan opens into a square
sanctuary chamber, crowned by a dome with a mihrdb in the rear wall of
the chamber.
The earliest Saljuq mosque containing all these elements is the small
Masjid-i Jami' at Zauara, north-east of Ispahan, which was erected in 530/
1135.
During the Saljuq period vaults over the square or rectangular bays of the
. i
prayer hall of mosques display a considerable variety of types. In the earliest
surviving Iranian mosques, the bays were covered by barrel vaults. This
resulted in complication of construction at the corner angles and did not
offer any opportunity for display of technical skill. The Saljuq builders replaced
the barrel vaults by domical type vaults. In order to enhance the decorative
quality of vaults, they built groin vaults, cloister vaults, vaults on groin
squinches, vaults on triangular false pendentives, domical lantern vaults,
saucer domes and flat vaults. Examples of these experiments may be seen
in those areas of the Jami' Masjid at Ispahan which are assigned to the Saljiiqs.
Surface enrichment of the Muslim architecture in Iran was of three types :
brick patterns, plaster, and mosaic faience. Decorative brick-lay appeared in
pre-Saljuq work, reached its maximum effectiveness under the Saljiiqs, and
tended to die out in the eighth/fourteenth century. Stucco was an important
feature of decoration even in the earliest Muslim monuments and held its
popularity throughout. Faience, first used by the Saljiiqs on a large scale,
developed considerably during the Il-Khanids and reached its zenith under
the Timurids and the Safawids.
A number of Saljuq monuments contain mihrabs executed in small cut
bricks. Brick-end plugs were also utilized for decorative purposes but it was
stucco, and to some extent sculpture in stone, that played the most important
role in the exterior and interior embellishment during the Saljuq period. The
arabesque and monumental inscriptions in Kufic and nasta'liq writing became
an essential part of decoration. For instance, in Merv there still stand the
ruins of the tomb of Sultan Sanjar (511-552/1117-1157) the last of the great
Saljiiqs, decorated on the inside with panels of fine arabesque and inscriptions,
both Kufic and nashh in cut terra-cotta. One of the most beautiful Kufic
inscriptions of the Saljuq period is known from a ruined madrasah at Kar ghi d
in Khurasan. It contains the name of Nizam al-Mulk, the Grand Vizier of
Sultan Alp Arsalan (455-485/1063-1092). The Jami' Masjid at Qazwin, built
in 509/1116, and the mihrab of Imamzadah Karrar at Buzun (528/1134)
exhibit the most developed Saljuq style of decoration in stucco and stone.
The Jami' Masjid at Ardistan (555/1160) has three mihrabs rich in stucco
decorations. Here several systems of arabesque are intervened or placed one
above the other, the heavy or baroque arabesque in high relief usually forming
the background.
Stucco was used extensively in the Saljuq era not only for the decoration
of mosques, but also for that of palaces and houses of the nobles. Compositions
consisted of hunting scenes and Court scenes. Occasionally, the relief of
figures was so high and thick that it approached sculpture. These stucco reliefs
are chiefly found in Rayy (Teheran) and Sawa.
Fifteen Saljuq monuments display, on the interior or the exterior, glazed
tiles used in the inscriptions or patterns. Mosaic faience developed in Gumbad-i
Kabud at Maraghah (593/1196) reached a stage at which strips of glazed
tiles were set in a plaster ground to form an elaborate strapwork pattern,
A History of Muslim Philosophy
splendid calligraphic friezes of lustred faience surmounted dadoes composed
of star tiles in golden brown lustre on a white ground, and mihrabs were
executed in the same material, for instance, the famous mihrab of the Maidan
Mosque at Kashar (623/ 1226). * 2 Mention may be made of Malik Shah, a great
Saljiiq monarch (465-^85/1072-1092) who made Ispahan, his capital, one of
the most beautiful cities in Asia. He built the famous Jami' Mosque and for
the first time introduced the tapering fluted style of tower in Iran. The finest
example of this cylindrical minaret is found in Iran. It is called Mina-i 'Ali
and was built by Malik Shah. It is decorated with geometrical patterns and
bands of inscriptions on glazed tiles.
Persia suffered the greatest disaster at the hands of Mongol invaders at
the beginning of the seventh/thirteenth century. Merv and Nishapiir fell to
Chingiz Khan in 617/1220, and within twenty-five years the entire country
was not only occupied but cities were completely bur